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DEFENDING A HOME. 


A NOVEL. 


By E. a. young, 

Author of “ The Fugitives of Pearl Hill," Etc., Etc. 


THE PEERLESS SERIES, No. 31. Issued Monthly. February, 1891. Exlr. 1 . $3 00 per year. Entered 
at New York Post-Office as second-class matter. Copyright, 1890, by J. S. Ogilvie. 


Copyright, 1891, by J. S. Ogilvib. 



New York: 

J. S. OGILVIE, Publisher, 
57 Rose Street. 









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DEFENDING A HOME. 


CHAPTER I. 

TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 

Toward the close of a sultry August day in the 
year 1754 two boys paused on the brow of a low 
hill and looked across at the wooded slopes beyond. 
There, curling above the highest treetops, the eldest 
noticed a thin wreath of smoke. 

‘‘ Does that come from our chimney, Kube ? ” he 
asked. 

‘‘ Mother must be cooking a big lot of supper for 
us if it does,” said the other. For, as they looked, 
the smoke suddenly increased in volume and be- 
came almost as black as the thunder clouds that lay' 
along the western horizon. 

That is beyond our cabin at least a mile,” said 
the elder. And,” he added, as the smoke rose in 
a dense volume, ‘^no chimney ever sent up such a 
smoke as that unless the soot got afire. What can 
it be ? ” 

‘‘ One of the new settlers burning stumps,” Eube 
suggested. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps it is, though it isn’t in the direction of 
Pontoosuc.” (The present city of Pittsfield, Mass.) 

But we can’t stop to find out what a strange 
smoke means. Mother will be anxious if we don’t 
get home by sundown, and you must carry in a 
bucket of water. I left the bucket at the spring.” 

‘‘You can carry the water yourself. Si,” said 
Eube. For an average boy of one hundred and 


4 


TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 


thirty-five years ago liked to shirk disagreeable 
tasks just the same as he does to-day. And Eube 
Fowler was in many respects, at least, an average 
boy. 

The one that gets to the spring last must carry 
the bucket ; that’s fair,” was Si’s way of settling 
the dispute. And without waiting for Eube to 
agree to the suggestion he started down the slope 
at his best speed. 

His companion bounded in pursuit, and although 
he was only thirteen and his brother two years 
older, it was evident that Eube was the fastest 
runner. Besides he was a trifle angry at Si’s way 
of taking the advantage. As if to punish the latter 
for his unfairness he tripped and fell just as he 
reached the edge of the woods. 

‘‘Now, Who’ll fetch the water?” Eube triumph- 
antly cried, as he leaped nimbly over his companion 
and darted on ahead. 

Si rose deliberately to his feet and made no at- 
tempt to regain the lost advantage. He was natu- 
mlly slow of movement, as he was of speech, and 
it was seldom that he tried to compete with his 
brothers in feats of agility. 

The spring was situated about half-way betwixt 
the edge of the natural clearing and the Fowler 
cabin, and a few moments’ walking brought Si to 
the tree on a broken limb of which the bucket 
usually hung. But the pail was not there. 

“If Eube has hid it, he’ll have to come back 
after the water, that’s all,” said the boy in his 
drawling tones. Then he turned toward the spring, 
which bubbled forth from underneath a huge rock- 
maple tree, and bent over it to obtain a drink. 

knelt on a protruding root he saw some- 
thing that made him forget his thirst. For where 
the water usually welled forth with crystal clear- 
ness, a chunk of rotten and worm-eaten wood had 
been thrust, turning the current from its course 
and tainting its purity. 


TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 


5 


Rube did that, he deserves — but Rube didn’t 
do it ! ” Si exclaimed, his brown cheeks flushing 
with indignation. 

He tried to remove the obstruction with his hands, 
but it was wedged in too tightly to be so easily dis- 
placed. Then, in looking about him for a stick to 
pry with, he noticed what he might have observed 
in the flrst place had he suspected anything to be 
wrong. There were large, broad footprints in the 
soft clay around the spring. 

‘‘They are bigger than Lem’s tracks,” the boy 
audibly reflected. 

He had lived long enough in the backwoods to 
gain a little of the art of following a trail, although 
he would have been easily baffled had the maker of 
the tracks made any attempt to conceal them. 

They led him by a short detour to the small clear- 
ing where the Fowler cabin stood. The unknown 
had paused behind a large tree on the edge of the 
clearing, where, as it appeared, a somewhat lengthy 
observation of the log house and its surroundings 
had been taken. Si judged the latter fact by the 
depth of the footprints in the mellow leaf mold, 
which showed that the position of the feet had not 
been changed for a considerable period. 

Further examination discovered indications that 
the person who had placed the rotten wood in the 
spring had moved from one sheltering tree to an- 
other at different points along the edge of the open- 
ing, evidently for the purpose of making a very 
minute observation of the premises. 

Si Fowler, as has been hinted, was very deliberate 
in everything he did, and he was likewise slow in 
coming to a conclusion. Finding at length that to 
follow the trail further would take him away into 
the forest, he stepped out into the clearing and 
approached the house. 

“You needn’t think I shall go back after the 
water, Si, for I shan’t, if we don’t have any for a 


6 


TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 


week ! ” Eube exclaimed from the doorway as the 
other drew near. 

“ Where’s Lem?” Si demanded, so gravely that 
Eube scented something wrong. 

Hasn’t got home yet. But what do you want 
of him ? And what made you so long coming ? It 
is more than half an hour since I left you behind.” 

‘ ‘ I wish Lem was here, Eube. Go in and tell 
mother that some rubbish got into the spring, and 
that I have got to clean it out before I can get any 
water.” 

Eube started to obey, but Si recalled him, adding 
in his most careless drawl : 

‘ ‘ Fetch me the other bucket and my gun. I may 
get sight of the critter that filled up the spring.”' 

When Eube returned their mother followed him 
to the door. But Si had sauntered some distance 
away from the house, to avoid the anxious question- 
ing which he was sure the matronly heart would be 
prompted to make. 

“ Come straight back, soon as you git the water, 
Si,” she called after him. ‘‘Like enough it w^as a 
bear that did the mischief, and bears are ugly 
critters. So mind what I say, and don’t try to 
toiler any tracks to-night.” 

This was spoken in a tone of command, and those 
backwoods mothers of a century and more ago 
were accustomed to exact as implicit obedience 
from boys of Si’s age as fathers were. In this re- 
spect, at least, it might be as well if the mothers of 
these days were more like their ancestors. 

“I won’t follow any bear tracks,” Si answered 
back over his shoulder, as Eube came up with the 
gun and bucket. 

“ Was it a bear ? Did you get a sight at him ? ” 
Eube eagerly questioned," walking along at his 
brother’s side. 

/‘I didn’t see any bear, and don’t expect to to- 
night,” was Si’s slow-spoken reply. 

“What did you see, then ? Why can’t you tell a 


TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 7 

feller ? ” Eube persisted, impatiently tugging at Si’s 
arm. 

“I didn’t see anything, excepting some tracks, 
and I don’t care to follow them alone. I wish ” — 
and Si paused at the edge of the clearing to exam- 
ine his musket — that Lem would come. I don’t 
think it’s just right to have father and Lem off at 
the same time.” 

I’ll go back and stay with marni and Sue and 
Davey if you’re af eared on their account,” said 
Rube, with sudden willingness, which even Silas’ 
wits were not too slow to understand. 

“You had better, especially if you’re af eared to 
go with me. It will soon begin to grow dark in the 
woods. Rube, and you can’t cover up your head with 
a bed quilt out here, same as you do nights after 
you’ve gone to bed ! ” 

This remark of Si’s touched Rube in a sensitive 
spot. In the daytime he was as courageous as are 
most boys of his age. But that he would nearly 
smother himself with the bed coverings every night 
after the candle was extinguished in the rude cabin 
loft was a fact which he was very stout in denying 
in the daylight. 

But Si’s mysterious manner had given Rube sen- 
sations of real alarm, and he was in no mood, there 
on the edge of the darkening forest, to protest 
against the oft-repeated ridicule from his steady- 
nerved brother. 

Shall I send Lem to help you if he comes afore 
you get back ? ” Rube asked, beginning to walk 
backward with his face to the woods. 

“L-L-Lem is here already ! ” stammered a voice 
so close at his side that it made him jump. 

Si had been so intent priming his musket that he 
had not noticed the approach of the elder brother. 
Lem had entered the clearing from the opposite side, 
and, observing the boys, had hastened to join them 
without stopping at the cabin. 

He was a remarkably stalwart youth for his sev- 


8 


TRACKS IN THE FOREST. 


enteen years, beiDg fully sijc. feet in height, and with 
a well-proportioned figure. His homespun clothes 
were rather a snug fit, indicating that he was still 
growing. 

His smooth, frank face wore a look of extreme 
anxiety. He had evidently been running, for his 
cheeks were streaked with perspiration. As he 
stood facing Eube he held his hands behind him, and 
as the younger boy advanced eagerly to welcome 
him he shook his head forbiddingly. 

‘‘Hurry b-b-back to the house, Eube, and tell 
marm I’ll be right along. I’ll go with S-S-Si to the 
spring,” he said, in a tone that met with ready 
obedience. 

Not until Eube had reached the dwelling did Lem 
bring his hands round in front of him, displaying to 
the astonished gaze of Si the broken stock of his 
own musket. 

“ What in the world has happened, Lem ?” w'as 
Si’s eager question. 

“ There’s Indians on the w-w-war path,” was the 
answer. “ They’ve b-b-burned a settler’s cabin two 
miles south of here. And, Si, I’ve had a t-t-tussle 
with one of ’em myself. That’s how my m-m- mus- 
ket come to be b-b- broke! ” 

Thus the big smoke and the reconnoitering tracks 
around the clearing were explained. 


CHAPTER n. 


PREPARING FOR THE DEFENCE. 

‘ ‘ Which got the best of the fight ? He didn’t kill 
you, anyhow,” exclaimed Silas. 

W-we had better be getting the water while we 
can,” said Lem, who, as will be noticed, stammered 
worse than usual when excited. Sometimes, when 
he was especially eager to speak, it would take a 
long time for him to articulate the first word. He 
always stuck at the first letter. 

We’ll talk as we go along. It was about a mile 
from here that I m-m-met the r-r- redskin. We 
were f-f-face to f-f-face before either of us saw 
t’other. I d-d-didn’t know but he was friendly till 
he came at me with his tomahawk. He f-f -flung 
that, but it missed me, and then, afore I could 1-lev- 
el my gun, he was too nigh for me to shoot. So I 
struck at him with the stock, and hit his head and 
a t-t tree at the same time. The varmint ran off, 
yelling like a w-w-w- wildcat. I guess the tree and 
the gun got the w-w- worst of it, but I didn’t wait to 
see, for I was af eared the yelling would fetch more 
redskins. I r-r-run every step of the way to our 
clearing, and it m-m-made me sweat.” 

By tWs time the brothers had reached the spring, 
and with the barrel of the broken musket for a bar 
the chunk of rotten wood was pried out. 

The current quickly washed away the fragments 
of wood and the bucket was filled. Lem found the 
other completely demolished lying in a by-path. 

‘‘ Whose cabin was that burned ?” questioned Si. 

I don’t know. I saw it burning from the top of 
the hill and the redskins running about near it. 
Like enough the inmates g-g-got away.” 


10 PREPAEING FOR THE DEFENCE. 

‘‘It’ll be our turn next, and father away, as he 
always is. I don’t see why he was so set on build- 
ing so far from a settlement. He is always bound 
to do just the thing that marm and the rest of us 
don’t want him to.” 

‘ ‘ Father is a q-q-queer man. ” A s he said this Lem 
proceeded to examine the tracks about which Silas 
had already told him. 

“I’ll t-t-tell you what. Si,” said Lem, when he 
had satisfied himself of the character of the tracks. 
The best thing we can do is to get ready for a 
f-f-fight.” 

“You think it w^as a hostile redskin that has 
been prowling around our clearing ? ” 

“Not very f-f -friendly to put that wood in the 
spring and sm-m -mashing the bucket, "was it ? Come 
along with the water and g-g-give me the gun.” 

Si obeyed and they hurried back to the cabin. 

They were met at the door by their mother. Lem 
briefly explained their peril. 

“ We might flee to Pontoosuc if it wasn’t so fur,” 
was her first suggestion, spoken with such firmness 
of voice that one would have thought she felt only 
the slightest fear. 

“S-s-safer to stay here and fight it out,” was 
Lem’s verdict. 

“We mayn’t have to fight at all, Lemuel. I’ve 
never left off prayin’ for the Lord to take care on us, 
and He’s alius been merciful, and I don’t believe 
He’ll forsake us now when we need him most.” 

Something of the simple faith, as well as the 
courage, of this backwoods mother fell like a mantle 
upon her boys. Yet they understood that they 
could look for divine protection only in return for 
their own exertions. 

“You had better f-f -fetch another bucket of 
water. Si. And Eube can carry in plenty of fire- 
wood, for we may have to keep p-p-pretty close for 
a day or two. That won’t take him out of the clear- 
ing. It’s beginning to get d-d-d-dark in the woods. 


PREPARING FOR THE DEFENCE. 


11 


and if the r-r-redskins mean to visit us to-night 
they’ll begin to p-p-prowl round soon. Come, S-Si, 
see if you can’t h-h-hurry for once.” 

Lem seized an ax and led the way along the path 
leading to the spring. He accompanied Si only part 
way, however. 

“Hurry along,” he said, as he paused near a 
young white oak tree whose trunk was about six 
inches in diameter and as straight as an arrow. 

“ What are you going to do with that ?” asked Si 
as Lem’s ax was struck into the hard wood with a 
ringing sound. 

“ I’m going to c-c-cut it down, Silas. Now f-f-fill 
your b-bucket and don’t ask questions.” 

Si obeyed, in his deliberate fashion. Lem felled 
the tree with a few strong, practiced strokes, then 
trimmed and cut off about an eight-foot length of 
the largest part of the trunk. 

To raise this to his shoulder was all he could do, 
for it was almost as heavy as a bar of iron. He 
had just got it balanced, and picked up the ax with 
his other hand, when a startling sound broke the 
silence. It was the report of a musket. 

At the same instant rapid footsteps approached, 
and he saw Si advancing with the bucket of water 
in one hand and smoking gun in the other. 

“ Make for the cabin, Lem ! ” he cried. “ I’ve shot 
a redskin.” 

“D-d-drop your bucket — you can’t run with that,” 
said Lem, striking into a trot. 

But Si tenaciously clung to the bucket and con- 
tents, and kept close to the heels of his brother. 

They had scarcely reached the edge of the clearing 
when they were thrilled by a loud whoop in their 
rear, the significance of which they knew only too 
well. 

“ D-d drop your bucket ! ” reiterated Lem. 

“ Then throw away 3^111* load,” panted Si. 

And so they both pushed on, resolutely clinging 


12 


PREPARING FOR THE DEFENCE. 


to thoir burdons, not Gvon tho buckotful of water or 
the ax being relinquished. t i 

They reached the cabin simultaneously, and xtube 
opened the door for them. 

The sun had sunk behind the hills some time ago, 
and the clearing was lit up by a dull red glow faint- 
ly reflected from the clouds to the eastward. 

To the south of the cabin stretched a level strip of 
meadow land, with a small branch of the Housa- 
tonic Kiver flowing through it. And there, waving 
in the light August breeze, within plain view from 
the cabin door, was a fleld of corn planted by these 
sturdy backwoods boys. 

It was the sight of this fruit of their toil that 
caused the boys to pause on the threshold, heedless 
of a possible shot from the forest. 

“I suppose they’ll cut down every stock of corn,” 
said Si. 

“And 1-1-level the rye, too. The v-v-varmints 
will manage to starve out befpre winter the settlers 
they don’t kill. But all we can do is to make the 
best f-f-flght we c-can.” 

“ What in the world be you going to do with that 
stick, Lemuel ? ” his brother exclaimed, as the youth 
let his burden fall with a heavy thump on the 
floor. 

“He dot it to punch de Induns wiv!” was the 
suggestion of little Davey, which made Eube laugh 
and the others smile. And, little realizing the 
dreadful peril that menaced him in his helplessness, 
he clapped his hands in glee. 

Davey was at the rude table, eating his supper of 
bread and milk. Sue, the oldest of the family was 
getting supper for her brothers. She was graceful 
and pretty, and still her face betrayed nothing like 
the feminine timidity which we are accustomed to 
expect in young women of the present day. In- 
deed, Susan Fowler had a musket of her own, and 
was the best shot of the family, excepting Lem, 
who was a more than common marksman. 


PEEPARIxa FOR THE DEFENCE. 


13 


‘‘I got the stick to brace the door with, but I 
m-m-niay have to use it as D D-Davey s-s-s-says.” 

Lem noticed the milk his little brother was eat- 
ing, and abruptly turned to Eube. 

The c-c-cow 

‘‘About time to see if she has come up to the 
shed,’’ drawled Silas. 

‘ ‘ Better to let the cow go than to expose your- 
selves,” admonished Sue, with the same calm, good 
sense that characterized the speech of the mother. 

“ W-w- we must save her if we can. When it 
comes to g-g giving things up then we’ll 1-let ’m go, 
and not afore.” 

Lem led the way, followed by Si. A rude shed 
was built against one side of the cabin, but as the 
latter had only one door, the out-building could be 
entered onl}^ by going outside. They found the 
cow in front of the shed door, unconcernedly chew- 
ing her cud. 

Lem took her by a horn, while Si opened the 
door. At that moment the boys, who all the while 
kept a sharp lookout along the dark face of the 
forest, saw a bright stream of fire spurt out. 

W ith a low of mingled pain and fright the cow 
wheeled away from the shed, frantically struggling 
to break from the grasp of Lem. 

“ She’s hit, she’s hit !” cried he, springing forward 
and trying to seize the other horn. 

“ T-t-t take off your j-j- jacket and 'throw it over 
her h-h-h ” 

In his excitement Lem’s tongue was more unruly 
than ever. But Si was quick to comprehend his 
purpose, and the garment was thrown over the 
animal’s face, effectually blindfolding her. 

“N-n-now make f-for the shed,” stammered 
Lem. 

Blindfolded, the cow was as willing to go in that 
direction as any other, and in a moment she was 
under cover and the door closed. 

“ B-b-back into the house q-quick !” 


14 


PREPARING POR THE DEPEl^CE. 


Si started first, Lem followed. A few bounds and 
they were at the door. No shot was heard this time, 
but something whisked over their heads and struck 
in the logs over the door, where it quivered for an 
instant like a living thing. 

It was an Indian arrow. Lem reached up, plucked 
it from the log and entered the cabin. 


CHAPTER III. 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 

Lem did not secure the arrow because it was a 
curiosity to him, for the resident Indians in that lo- 
cality, who had for many years been on friendly 
terms with the white settlers, had made presents of 
fine bows and arrows to both Rube and Si. One 
young Indian in particular, known as Winawis, was 
a frequent visitor at the cabin, and he took especial 
pride in his handicraft, some specimen of which, in 
the shape of an ingenious toy for Davey, he was 
sure to bring whenever he came. 

The reader will observe that the date of the occur- 
rences I am describing was over twenty years before 
the war for American independence. For many 
years there had been almost continuous war be- 
tween England and France. Therefore the hostili- 
ties between the two nations extended to their col- 
onies in America. 

Canada was settled by the French, and emissa- 
ries were sent among the Indians in the New Eng- 
land colonies to incite them to burn and destroy the 
English settlements. Since the great Indian war, 
known in history as King Philip’s war, which oc- 
curred seventy-five years before the events of this 
story, nearly all of the Massachusetts Indians were 
friendly to the white settlers. Therefore, the savage 
allies of the French came mostly from New Hamp- 
shire and westward. 

There had been a short interval of comparative 
peace, and during that period several settlements 
sprung up along the beautiful valley of the Housa- 
tonic. 

For two months the settlers in some localities had 


J[(] an tJNENPECTED ENCOUNTER. 

boGii harrassod. by thG Froncb ciiid IiidianSj who 
lurked in the forest ready to attack the most de- 
fenseless points. Men at work in the fields had been 
killed, several cabins were burned and a few prison- 
ers taken by the Indians. But since the Fowler 
cabin was quite remote from any settlement, and 
all communication along the frontier slow and diffi- 
cult, the Fowlers were first warned of their peril by 
the events just described. 

Probably none of them fully realized the extent 
of their danger. All the Indians with whom they 
had come in contact were friendly. So it was hard 
to realize that a redskin with the pipe of peace and 
a redskin on the warpath were wholly different 
creatures. 

Lem had plucked the arrow frorn the log because 
he was sure he recognized its workmanship. There 
were Wo notches cut near the feather end of the 
missile ; and this was the trademark, so to speak, 
of the afore-mentioned Winawis. 

What is it ? What is it chorused Eube and 
Si, while tall Lem held the object of interest high 
above their reach. 

He stripped off a slip of birch bark and held it 
close to the flickering candle on the table. The 
bark had been tied to the arrow and had writing 
upon it. 

‘Ht is from father,” Lem announced. 

What does he say ? Where is he ? Did he shoot 
the arrow ? ” 

In these rapid queries even Sue and her mother 
joined. Lem read the message aloud, which was as 
follows : 

You have nothing to fear from the Indians to- 
night. I will be with you in an hour or two, and 
tell you what to do. Josiah Fowler. 

‘‘Good ! good ! ” exclaimed Rube, fairly jumping “ 
up and down in the sudden transition from fear to a 
sense of comparative security. 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


17 


‘‘Is that all he says?” asked Mrs. Fowler, star- 
ing with a perplexed countenance at the message. 
For in those days even the limited ability to read 
and write were not thought so essential as now, and 
it must be confessed that this sturdy pioneer mother 
knew how to do neither. 

“ That is all, and I d-d-don’t see as it amounts to 
a h-h-hickory ” 

“ Hush, Lemuel ! Don’t speak in that way of 
your father. If he says he will come, of course he 
he will, and we must be patient.” 

“He is always c-c-coming, but never c-c-comes. 
He is always going to d-d-do wonders, but never 
d-does ’em. I’ve about lost f-f-faith in him, and I 
can’t help s-s-saying so.” 

“ That is one of Winawis’ arrows,” drawled Si- 
las, examining it in his deliberate way. 

“ Then he and pa are together,” exclaimed Eube, 
for he had not lived nor reasoned long enough to 
lose confidence in a parent who, as has been hinted, 
was a peculiar man. 

“ If they are it is some encouragement, for they 
may be working for our safety in a way that we 
shall know when we see them,” was the hopeful 
rejoinder of Sue. 

“ What does he s-s-say we’ve nothing to fear for, 
when one of the varmints f-f -fired at us not f-five 
minutes ago ? It was n-no good will that made the 
bullet h-hit the c-c-cow instead of Si or me.” 

“ Perhaps pa didn’t shoot the arrow at aU. It 
may be a decoy,” suggested Si. 

“ It is his writing and he sent it. B-b-but ” 

“ Well, Lemuel, what have you thought of 
now ? ” 

“ He may be a p-p-prisoner and forced to w-w-w- 
write the message.” 

“Would he do that, Lemuel, knowing it might 
be used as a decoy ? You must be fair to’ards him. 
He wouldn’t help our enemies if he knew it.” 

“ Perhaps not, if he kn-n-n-new it.” 


18 


an unexpected encounter. 


“ And he must know whether there’s real danger 
or not We must wait, and hope for the best. 
Your father is a brave man, at any rate, and it he 
comes to help us he’ll make a stout fight, you may 


We’ll k-k-keep a lookout, just the same,” said 
Lem. He barred the heavy door and set the oaken 


brace against it. .c i j t> 

“ S-S-Si you lookout towards the cornfield, Kube 
can 1-1-look across the south side of the clearing, 
and ni make a general observation of the f-t-torest 


front.” . 1 i. 

Lem’s directions were carried out, but no signs 


of the enemy were discovered. 

‘'Keep a sharp 1-1-lookout on all sides, boys. 1 
must m-m-milk the cow.” 

“ How are you goin’ to get to her ? ” Rube asked. 

“I’m going to do what father s-s-said he would 
do when we built the cabin a year ago. Cut a door 
through the w-w-wall into the shed, so we won’t 
have to g-g-go outside.” 

“ That’ll take all night, won’t it V 

“I’ll make a hole b-b-big enough to c-c-crawl 
through, and make the rest of the door when I have 
t-t-time.” 


Lem seized the ax, which he knew so well how 
to wield, and began to chop through one of the logs 
on the side of the cabin next to the shed. His blows 
caused the dwelling to tremble from roof to fioor. 
But it was stanchly built, and the timbers were so 
heavy that there was no danger of mischief to the 
building. 

A section of one log was soon removed, and Lem 
attacked another with vigorous strokes. But before 
it was cut through an exclamation from Rube caused 
him to drop the axe and hurry to the lookout. 

“ S-s-somebody creeping across the clearing, 
c-coming this way,” announced Lem. 

“ I guess father IS going to keep his word,” said Si. 

Mrs. Fowler, with an air of eagerness which pro- 


AJ^ UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


19 


claimed more than ordinary interest in one of her 
plcicid habit, hurried to the side of her stalwart son. 

‘‘It is him ! It is Josiah ! ” she breathlessly ex- 
claimed after a single glance through the small 
square aperture which served the double purpose of 
loophole and lookout. 

She was right. ''Hie creeping figure made its way 
straight to the cabin door, and a well-known voice 
said : 

“ Let me in, quick ! ” 

“It’s your father, Lemuel. Open the door before 
the Indians fire on him.” 

In another moment Josiah Fowler stood in the 
midst of an eager group in the cabin, assailed by a 
dozen questions uttered all in a breath. 

He was a musclar man of medium height, clean- 
shaven, and with remarkably keen black eyes. To 
judge his character from his countenance would 
have been a difficult matter. His family knew him 
as a man who was never willing to make their home 
long in one place, and always unwilling to build a 
habitation in or very near a settlement. He made 
frequent hunting excursions, but seldom brought 
home any game. Though never directly unkind to 
his wife or children, he seemed to take little pleasure 
in their society. 

He rarely used his authority toward his sons ; 
but when he had done so a single word was suf- 
ficient to bring obedience. 

“Don’t fasten the door so tight, Lemuel,” were 
almost the first words he spoke, after a hasty greet- 
ing. 

“ Why n-n-not ?” Lem demanded. He had closed 
and bolted the door and was in the act of replacing 
the oaken brace. 

“ Because it is no use. We have got to surrender. 
The woods are full of hostile Indians, with French- 
men for leaders. If we give up peaceably we will 
be well treated. If we resist we shall be butchered 
like so many sheep. ” 


20 AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 

Every face, save one, paled at these words. That 
one was Lem’s. 

‘‘ H-h-how do you know all this ?” he demanded. 

‘‘If I do know that is enough. It isn’t likely I 
would advise you to do anything that I didn’t think 
was best. Unbar the door and I will answer for 
your safety.” 

Lem’s hand was on the oaken stick, and he 
glanced first at his mother and then at Sue. They 
looked perplexed, and, seeing their doubts settled 
his own into conviction. He resolutely dropped 
the brace into position. 

“What do you mean, Lemuel? I must he 
obeyed,” said Mr. Fowler, more sharply than they 
had ever heard him speak before. 

“ I m-m mean, s-sir, that other things don’t come 
out as you p-p-promise, and t-t-too much depends 
now to make any m-m-mistake. We’ll stay and 
t-t-ake our chances.” 

Mr. Fowler stared for a moment in angry aston- 
ishment. Then he seized the brace, flung it aside 
and sprang to the door. 

“H-h-hands off!” cried Lem, and he drew his 
father backward. 

“ Lemuel 1 Lemuel 1 Be careful what you do ! ” 
was the warning chorused by mother and sister, 
while Si and Eube looked on in silence. 

As soon as Lem had drawn his father away from 
the door he released him and stepped back to the 
brace. 

He had never before presumed to oppose paternal 
authority. “ Children, obey your parents,” was in 
those days observed as the flrst law of the home, and 
it was not so often transgressed without cause as 
now. But the time had come with Lemuel Fowler 
when it seemed to him that he must disobey one 
parent that he might defend the other. 

As I have stated, Mr. Fowler did not often dictate 
to his children, but this was all the greater reason 
for their standing a little in awe of him ; for nothing 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


21 


weakens authority so much as the too frequent use 
of it. Therefore .Rube and Si, as well as Sue and 
their mother, almost held their breaths when Lem 
had thus openly defied his father, for they dared not 
think of the consequences. 

Mr. Fowler turned about and stood for moment 
as though a little dazed by the resistance he had met 
with. Then he advanced and again laid his hand on 
the brace. 

“Josiah!” exclaimed his wife, coming forward 
in her quiet manner. 

‘‘Stand away from the door, Lemuel,” he said, 
so harshly that it did not sound like his voice at 
all. 

“ N-n-not unless mother says so, t-t-too,” was the 
firm response. 

“ She had better say so, then. Do you think I 
would surrender if it wasn’t best ? Haven’t I made 
sacrifices enough for you all, and worked hard 
enough to make a home for you to deserve your 
confidence 'i ” 

“ You have m-m.-made homes enough if you only 
k-k-kept ’em,” said Lem, drily. 

“ What do you mean by that 

“You have kept us shifting from one p-p-place 
to another ever s-s-since I can remember.” 

“I have moved from poor land on to better, and 
have always made money by the change.” 

“P-p-perhaps you have ; but I d-d-dont see what 
it has amounted to for tlie r-r-rest of us. I shouldn’t 
know a sh-sh-shilling if you should show me one. 
I d-d-don t believe Rube or S-S-Si ever saw a sh-sh- 
shilling.” 

“ Don’t be saucy, Lemuel,” said the warning voice 
of his mother. 

“Better k-k-keep a lookout for the redskins, 
b-b-boys,” said Lem, so calmly that his brothers 
admired him for his strength and courage more 
than they had ever done before. 

They went to look outs on opposite sides of the 


23 an unexpected encounter. 

cabin, one commanding the dark hne of forest and 
the other the open valley with its fields of • . 

The thunderclouds which had threatened to rise 
before sunset had drifted away to the southward, 
and the moon, nearly at its full, shed a calm lig 

'■S-S™ to the dltocti« of the comheto 

Obiects were revealed with such distinctness that he 
gaTC the broad, open space only 

before facing about to observe the inore iiiteiestnio 

occurrences within the cabin. His glance linger ed 

a moment only on a small dwarf or scrub oak 
standing about midway between the house and field 
which seemed to be agitated as by a sudden breeze. 
But a slight wind-gust at that moment swept past 
the house, so that the boy’s suspicions, if he had 
any, were quickly lulled. 

‘' Things have come to a pretty pass it a man must 
be dictated to and insulted by his cliildren, ex- 


claimed Mr. Fowler. 

To this Lem made no reply. 

But he did not retreat from his position, and it 
was plain from the way in which he compressed his 
lips that he would not yield if he could help it. 

•‘Come, Lemuel, don’t be stubborn,” his father 
added, in a more persuasive voice. 

“ If you can t-t-trust the pledges of enemies that 
you know n-n-nothing about, you can give yourself 
up to ’m. But I c-c-caiTt do it. I’d rather f-f- 
fight. 

“ You’re an obstinate young whelp 1 Get out of 
the way !” 

Mr. Fowler gave way wholly to his savage 
temper, springing to the door, seizing the (>akeu 
brace with both hands striving to wrench it from 
the grasp of his stalwart son. 

The stick was removed from its position, and 
there was a brief struggle for its possession. The 
man voluntarily relinquished his hold, however, and 
made a hurried attempt to unbar the door, 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


23 


^^H-h-hold on, father !’’ cried Lein, in a tone that 
caused the other to hesitate. “If you o-o-openthat 
door you must go out of it, and alone. And if you 
ch-ch-choose to go you must s-s-stay, for I shall 1-1- 
lock it after you.” 

Lem looked at his mother as he said this ; but 
she had turned away, perhaps so that he could not 
see her face. Sue made no sign ; and he felt that 
he was justified in what he w^as doing. 

Mr. Fowler sent a scowling glance toward each 
of the distressed faces in the room, and then coolly 
opened the door and w'ent out. 

He had scarcely crossed the threshold before Lem 
fulfilled his word, and the oaken brace was once 
more placed in position. 

“ What do you see, S-S-Si ?” he asked a minute 
later. 

‘ ^ That scrub oak is nigher the house than it was 
when I looked afore, and I believe it’s moving this 
way,” drawled Si. 

Lem and Eube both sprang to the lookout which 
afforded a sight of the shrub, which seemed to have 
the power of locomotion. 

Si was right, for the scrub oak was certainly much 
nearer the cabin than it had been when they last 
observed it. 

Without an instant’s hesitation Lem thrust the 
muzzle of a musket through the loophole, took 
careful aim at the densest part of the shrub and 
fired. 

Si and Rube both had their eyes fixed upon the 
scrub oak when Lem fired, and they were rewarded 
by seeing the tree perform such antics as are very 
uncommon to its species, even in the most violent 
of wind-gusts. At first it swayed from side to side 
as though it would topple over. Then it began 
moving away from the dwelling in a rapid, zigzag 
course. 

“ There are two or three of ’em ! Give ’em another 
shot,” exclaimed Rube. 


24 AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 

He handed his own gun to Lem, and he had 
barely time to return to his lookout when a second 
shot broke the silence of the summer evening. 

The dwarf-oak had made the most of the interval 
in its retreat, so the second shot was made at a much 
longer range. 

I But the result was none the less decisive. The 
flight of the shrub was stopped and it fell over on 
its side. At the same time three human figures 
emerged from behind its foliage and fled swiftly 
toward the forest. 

The Indians — for there was no doubt but the 
stratagem was a result of Indian ingenuity — ran in 
separate directions, as divergent as though they 
never intended to come together again. 

Two of them made, for different points in the 
forest, the third ran toward the corn field, and his 
figure was soon blended with the luxuriant grain. 

Whether either of them had been struck by a 
bullet could only be conjectured, although one of 
them limped perceptibly in running. 

“ They meant to get up close to the house before 
we should see them,” said Rube, who was rapidly 
reloading the muskets discharged by Lem. 

‘‘If we had taken father’s word for it you see 
where we should have been,” drawled Si. For it 
was clear from the first that he was well satisfied 
with the course taken by the elder brother. 

“The q-q-question is, what did he want us to 
surrender for unless it was s-s-safe ? ” 

That’s so,” said Rube, who was naturally less 
mady than his brothers to be suspicious of Mr. 
Fowler. “ Of course, he knew what he was talking 
about, and we may be sorry we didn’t go with him 
before we get through.” 

“There is no good reason w'hy we should expect 
better treatment at the hands of the Indians than 
others captured by them. They burn the cabins 
and murder sellers wherever they go. He might 
have explained if he had wished us to trust him.” 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


25 


It was Sue who said this, and there was not a 
a cooler or more calculating mind among them than 
hers. 

‘‘There are a good many things I’d like to have 
him exp-p-plain,” rejoined Lem. 

“You might have asked him some questions 
while you was about it,” said Si. 

“I thought I would 1-1-leave that for somebody 
else.” 

‘ ‘ I asked him where he was going the last time 
he went away.” 

“What d-d-did he s-say ?” 

“ That he was going on a trading trip.” 

“ A t-t-trading trip,” echoed Lem, with incredu- 
lous emphasis. “ K-k-keep a sharp lookout on all 
sides, and I will go and m-m-milk the cow,” he con- 
tinued. 

He himself first took a careful observation of the 
clearing for any suspicious manifestation that 
might escape the less careful vision of his brothers. 
But the scene was as unmarred in its quiet peace- 
fulness as the same locality is at the present day. 

Kube and Si returned to the points of lookout they 
had before occupied, while Lem resumed work on 
the opening into the cow-shed. 

Another section of log was soon removed, and 
with a milkpail and lantern — the latter of tin, thick- 
ly perforated with small holes through which the 
feeble light of a candle was sprinkled in tiny dots — 
Lem crawled through the opening, and for a time 
was invisible to the other inmates of the cabin. 

In the meanwhile, Davey had been put to bed in 
one of the two rooms on the ground floor of the 
dwelling. Overhead was a loft where the boys 
slept, and which could be reached only by means of 
a ladder. 

When Lem returned with the pail of milk the 
boys had nothing to report from their observations. 

Still they could not think of going to bed, for the 
danger and excitement had made even Kube wide 


r 


26 AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 

awQ^k© Tli6y took turns ut tlio lookout, tnlking 
but little, all their senses on the alert for the sounds 
they dreaded to hear. j. x • -u 

But as the hours passed and no demonstration 1^ 
the enemy was made, their fears in a measure sub- 
sided, and before dawn Si and Kube stretched them- 
selves on thp cabin floor and fell asleep. 

When they awoke the sun was shining in at one 
of the small windows, and their mother was getting 
breakfast. They were on their feet in an instant, 
and ran to the lookouts. 

The c-c-coast is clear,” announced Lem, crawT- 
ing in from the cowshed. 

don’t believe they will try another attack. 
They found us too sharp for ’em,” said Rube. 

“We won’t c-c-crow too high y-y-yet. There are 
some folks as s-s-smart as we are that And it hard 
to beat a pack of r-r-redskins.” 

“JChey may have heard how brave Rube is, and 
so are afeard to show themselves,” drawled Si, who 
was ever ready to speak of Rube’s one weakness. 

“More likely they have found out that Si is a 
crack shot with a musket, ’’was Rube’s retort. For 
Silas was the poorest marksman in the family. 

Breakfast time passed and the hour approached 
midday, and still no hostile demonstration was 
made. 

“We can’t w-w-waste any more t-t-iime in this 
way,” said Lem at last. He chafed at inaction, for 
he felt that the time ought to be occupied either in 
strengthening their means of defence or in laying 
out a plan of flight to the nearest fortified settle- 
ment. 

“ Do you think they have given up the attack, 
Lemuel 1 ” his mother asked. 

“I think there was only a small p-p-party that 
gave us the scare last night, and that they have 
g-g-gone to join others. There were enough of 
them to have b-b-beaten us if we hadn’t been p-p- 
prepared. They meant to give us a s-s- surprise. 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 27 

Next time they will come in larger f-f-force — that 
is, if they come at all. That is the w-w-way I have 
figured it out.” 

And when will they be likely to return ? ” 
didn’t figure so far as that. Maybe t-t-to- 
night, and maybe not for t-t-two or three days.” 

While speaking Lem had removed the brace and 
unbolted the door. Then he examined and primed 
a musket — he chose Sue’s, since his own was 
broken — and then took up the water bucket, which 
was nearly empty. 

‘ ‘ What — what’re you going to do now ? ” Kube 
asked. 

I’m going to get some w-w- water — or t-t-try to, 
at any rate.” 

“I’d rather drink milk for one day than to go 
to the spring till I was sure the Indians were all 
gone.” 

“And give the cow milk to drink, too — that 
would be Kube’s way,” said Si. And with a rather 
pompous show of his own indifference to back- 
woods perils, Silas seized his own gun and con- 
tinued : 

‘ ‘ I’ll go with you, Lem, and lead Molly to the 
spring. That will be easier than lugging water for 
her to drink.” 

“ W-w- wait till next time. Si.” 

“You said you thought the Indians were gone ?” 

“They may have 1-1-left one or two behind to 
w-w- watch.” 

“And if you should meet one?” said Eube, ad- 
miring his brother’s coolness. 

“If he was m-m-most afraid, he’d run ; if he 
stood his ground, like enough I should do the r-r- 
running ” 

“ Be careful, Lemuel ; remember how much we 
depend on you,” cautioned Mrs. Fowler with a 
slight quiver in her voice. 

“Yes, mother. I shall come back all right,” 

Lem was not quite so free from fear as he had 


28 


AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER. 


appeared. He approached the forest with every 
precaution ; and when he had reached it he literally 
felt his way every foot of the intervening distance 
to the spring. 

Having reached the latter he hent over it to fill 
the bucket. In the limpid depths he beheld the re- 
flection of his own manly face ; and, an instant 
after, saw that of an Indian warrior mirrored be- 
side it. 


CHAPTEE IV. 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 

Lem had, as he supposed, taken every possible 
precaution in his approach to the spring against 
surprise. Therefore, the sight of the copper-colored 
visage mirrored in the pool beside his own was all 
the more startling. 

Had he in imagination been placed in the predica- 
ment in which he now really found himself, he 
would have been wholly at a loss what to do. But, 
face to face with his peril, and not even a moment 
allowed him, he was forced to act under the impulse 
of self-preservation which seems to have been im- 
planted in the nature of every living creature. And 
this action was probably better in effect than any 
that could have been planned beforehand. His 
bucket was only partly filled. His left hand grasped 
the pail, w^hile the right held the bottom in the usual 
position for dipping into the pool. And this circum- 
stances favored the action which, like a flash, he 
was prompted to execute. 

^VTthout releasing his hold on the bucket or giv- 
ing any sign of having discovered the presence of 
the foe, Lem sprang suddenly to his feet, and, with 
a rapid whirl sideways, dashed more than a gallon 
of cold spring water directly in the face and eyes of 
the Indian ; and then, having snatched his gun 
from the tree against which it rested, he leaped over 
the pool, skillfully avoided the large tree trunks and 
clumps of undergrowth, and quickly left his enemy 
out of sight. He continued his flight for a short 
distance only, for the direction taken was neces- 
sarily away from the clearing. Beaching a large 
oak he paused for breath, and for a glance back- 


30 Stratf.gy that failed. 

ward to see if he was pursued. For some moments 
he gazed and listened, but saw nor heard nothing 
of the redskin. Believing that he had thrown tJie 
latter off his track, temporarily at least, he decided 
to make his way back to the clearing as quickly as 

possible. , . j. 1 

He had proceeded in retracing his steps oniy a 
sliort distance, however, before he was startled by 
the sound of light, swift footfalls approaching from 
tb(i right. Glancing in that direction he beheld the 
Indian from whom he had fled running rapidly 
toward him. 

Lem brought his gun to his shoulder, but before 
he could fire the Indian began to dance and skip 
about with such nimbleness and rapidity that the 
white youth dared not discharge the weapon ; for 
if he did so and missed the mark he would be placed 
almost at the mercy of his foe. 

The savage was ' an agile fellow, and apparently 
but a few years older than his pale-faced enemy. In 
his nimble antics it became speedily evident that he 
had a double purpose in view. One was to render 
Lem’s aim uncertain, the others to work himself out 
of the range of the white youth’s piece. And in 
both these objects he was successful. The forest 
trees were nearly all of considerable size, yet only 
now and then one had a trunk large enough to fully 
shelter the body of a man. The Indian, as soon as 
he saw that the white youth intended to make a 
standing fight instead of again using his legs, cast 
his glance about for a tree sufficiently large for his 
purpose, and having espied one close at hand, he 
made his way toward it d,s rapidly as his zigzag 
mode of locomotion would allow. 

Lem perceived the Indian’s intention, and yet 
dared not risk a shot at such an uncertain mark. 
There were intervening twigs and branches, and the 
redskin’s maneuvers were made with inconceivable 
rapidity. A bird on the wing would have afforded 
a more promising target. Therefore he was forced 


•STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


81 


to seek shelter of the same character else he worild 
soon be left in the same hazardous position as was 
his enemy at that moment. For the Indian had a 
gun, and would undoubtedly make use of .it as soon 
as he had a chance to do so. 

There was a suitable tree within a few paces of 
Lem, and at the moment when his foe was making 
a final leap toward his tree the white youth by a 
similar maneuver gained the shelter he had chosen. 
Then followed a short interval marked by no demon- 
stration on the part of either the Indian or his white 
adversary. 

Lem ventured to peep cautiously from behind his 
shelter, but could see notbing of his foe.. The dis- 
tance separating them was but little more than 
thirty yards. ' To make any attempt to watch the 
movements of the Indian necessarily exposed the 
person of the wLite youth to a shot ; therefore Lem 
curbed his curiosity and vraited with all the patience 
he could command. 

But of the quality of patience the red man is well 
known to have a large share. The minutes dragged 
away, while Lem listened, shifting his feet, occa- 
sionally peeped around the trunk of his tree until he 
was almost ready to end the suspense. Still his 
enemy gave no sign. The stillness of the forest 
was actually oppressive. 

The redskin is up to some m-m-mischief, or I’m 
greatly m-m- mistaken,” the youth exclaimed at last, 
giving audible utterance to the suspicion which had 
made him more uneasy all the w^hile. 

The words had scarcely passed his lips when there 
came a tremendous cracking and crashing among 
the boughs overhead, and before Lem could glance 
upward for the cause the redskin alighted sprawling 
on the ground within musket length of the youth. 

The savage was instantly upon his feet, and, 
uttering a grunt of chagrin, turned to fiee. But 
Lem’s musket was levelled so quickly that the 
Indian seemed to think his doom was sealed, and 


82 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


he abruptly faced about, flung up his arms in a 
despairing attitude and uttered a wailing cry which 
was so prolonged and dismal that the white youth 
was tempted to lower his piece and let the savage 
escape. 

Lem’s intention at first had been to fire. Had he 
done so as the foe turned to flee, he would have no 
compunctions of conscience. But having hesitated, 
the situation was quite different. The foe was at 
his mercy, with his tomahawk lodged among the 
boughs overhead and his gun elsewhere. The fact 
that he was singing his death- song indicated that 
he expected no mercy, and had the situation of the 
twain been reversed it is certain that he would have 
shown none. But he was a savage, while his adver- 
sary had been taught by the gentlest of Christian 
mothers. Perhaps, under the circumstances, Lem 
would have been justified in fulfilling the redskin’s 
anticipations ; yet he had not the heart to do it, and 
at the very moment that the Indian’s wailing chant 
ended the white youth lowered his piece. 

The situation was then, if possible, more embar- 
rassing than before. The Indian had renounced his 
life, and found at the last moment that the foe would 
not take it. What his emotions were no phvsiogno- 
mist could have told from the expression of his 
stoical countenance. Possibly he would have been 
better satisfied if the outcome had been what he 
expected. He might have felt something like 
humihation at having sung his death- song too soon. 

Lem was likewise at a loss how to dispose of this 
piece of humanity for which he unexpectedly found 
himself responsible. 

The cause of the catastrophe was easy to discover. 
The redskin had climbed a tree while Lem was 
waiting for a demonstration, and having crawled 
along the branches from one tree to another until 
he was almost directly over the white youth, was on 
the point of throwing his tomahawk down upon the 
latter. To gain a better position and make sure of 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


33 


his aim he went too far out on a brittle bough, 
which suddenly broke, with the result I have 
shown. 

The Indian had no weapon on his person, and 
Lem felt no fear of an attack then. To let him 
escape, the youth reasoned, would enable the red 
man to resort to some strategem in which his race 
was so fertile. So he decided to compromise the mat- 
ter by making the enemy a prisoner. 

The youth approached the savage, taking a stout 
leathern thong from his pocket as he did so. The 
Indian evidently comprehended his purpose although 
he gave no sign. Lem took every precaution against 
treachery, grasping his hunting knife firmly and 
making a rather ferocious flourish in the air with it 
as a sign that he would show no mercy if his foe 
made any resistance. The Indian submissively put 
his arms behind him and allowed his captor to bind 
them securely. Then Lem picked up his own gun, 
secured that which his captive had left beside the 
tree, and gave the sententious order : 

Now m-m-march ! ” 

Their footsteps were directed toward the spring 
and the clearing beyond. 

Lem’s absence was so prolonged that the inmates 
of the cabin grew very uneasy. They listened al- 
most breathlessly for the report of a gun, which they 
momentarily expected to hear. They all stood in 
the doorway, their gaz:e fixed upon the spot where 
the elder brother had disappeared in the forest. 

‘‘He wouldn t stay and make us so uneasy unless 
something had happened,” said Mrs. Fowler. 

“ It would take more’n one Injun to lick Lem in 
a fair fight,” said Kube, confidently. “ He could 
have handled dad as easy as could be last night if 
he had really set out,” he added, growing enthusi- 
astic over his big brother’s prowess. 

“Hush, Eeuben,” admonished Sue. 

An instant later a startled exclamation escaped 
them all, save Silas, in the same breath. He said 


34 


STRATEaY THAT FAILED. 


nothing but raised his gun to his shoulder in his 
deliberate way. 

Shoot quick, Si ! Don’t be all day taking aim ! ” 
Eube excitedly cried. 

But after a moment Si lowered his piece. 

‘^It isn’t always best to be in too much of a 
hurry,” he drawled. 

The others were too much astonished at what 
they saw to reply. For, from the point where the 
footpath entered the forest, the form of an Indian 
warrior emerged and advanced at a measured pace 
directly toward the cabin. Si had just taken aim at 
the redskin when the familiar figure of Lem Fowler 
appeared in his rear. 

What was most mysterious to those watching 
from the cabin door was the fact that the savage 
carried one hand stiffly at his side, while in the other 
he bore a bucket of water ; and Lem, walking in 
his footsteps, carried a gun over each shoulder. 

‘^It is Winawis, the Siipmuck ! ” exclaimed Eube, 
in a tone of delight.' 

^‘What ails your eyes, Eube?” returned Si. 
‘^Winawis wears a hunting shirt and breeches, 
while that fellow is pretty nigh naked. And don’t 
you see ? — one of his arms is bound. That’s why he 
carries it so stiff.” 

‘‘And he has war paint on,” added Sue. who was 
as keen of vision as an old backwoodsman. 

While they were discussing the subject, Lem and 
his captive appeared. 

“ Come and t-t-take the b-b-bucket, sir,” said 
Lem, bringing his prisoner to a halt. 

The Indian stood as motionless as a statue as Si 
relieved him of his burden, and his eyes, black and 
shiny as beads, seemed to take not the least notice 
of his captor or anything else. His face was as de- 
void of expression as that of a wooden image. 

“Is he friendly, Lemuel?” Mrs. Fowler ques- 
tioned. 

“ Yes, if he c-c-cant help himself. He tried to kill 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


35 


me with his tomahawk and m-m-met with an acci- 
dent.” 

And Lem told the story of his encounter in the 
forest. 

I know why he didn’t t-t-try to sh-sh-shoot me,” 
the youth continued. When I threw the w-w-wa- 
ter on him some of it wet his m-m-musket. It has 
got to b-b-be cleaned out and rubbed d-d- dry afore 
it’ll w-w-work. Water helped me out of that scrape 
better than p-p-powder could. He didn’t expect it, 
and he got a good d-d-dousing.” 

Why didn’t you shoot him when you had a 
chance ? ” asked Rube. 

‘ ‘ Because I waited till my b-b-blood cooled down, 
and then it seemed too much like m-m-murder.” 

“ You did right to spare him, Lemuel,” was Mrs. 
Fowler’s prompt verdict. 

So you made him fetch the bucket of water for 
you ? ” said Rube, who had planted himself directl}^ 
in front of the prisoner, and was eyeing him with 
undisguised curiosity. 

I thought it was no more than fair, as I had to 
carry his g-g-gun.” 

^‘The question is now, what are y©u going to do 
with him ? ” Sue suggested. 

‘‘Keep him and feed him, and maybe he’ll get 
friendly to us after a while, same as the young bear 
did that Si caught in the trap last fall,” said Rube. 

“ He isn’t the kind of a c-c-cub that tames easy. 
He don’t look as if you could ever f-f-fetch him 
around to be much of a p-p-pet,” laughed Lem. 

“Better give him to Rube ; he’s a great feller to 
make pets,” dra wled Si, who had set to work to put 
the Indian’s musket in condition for use. 

“You oughter have disarmed him and let him 
go,” said Mrs. Fowler, to whom the novelty of a 
hostage from the enemy was not great enough to 
disguise the accompanying dilemma. 

“ That is what I thought of doing,” Lem replied. 
“But then I thought there might be other Indians 


36 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


near, and that he would manage to signal to them 
and get them after me in time, perhaps, to c-c-cut 
me off before I got to the cabin. So I f-f-fetched 
him along. If you say 1-1-let him go, then g-g-go 
iij is 

‘‘ If we keep him we can make him fetch all the 
water,” was the characteristic suggestion of Kube. 

'‘He might fetch in the wood and chop it for 
Eube after he gets him tamed,” said Si. 

The object of all this discussion in the mean- 
while had not stirred from the spot where he had 
been halted. His bead-like eyes wandered from, 
one to another member of the little group about the 
doorway, but whether he understood what they 
were saying or not was an enigma. 

" Fetch him into the house, Lernuel, and keep a 
sharp watch on him while I get him somethin’ to 
eat,” said Mrs. Fowler, after a moment’s considera- 


tion. 

"And then 1-1-let him go. Is that the plan, 
mother?” 

"Just as you think about it. Probably kindness 
will have no effect upon him, but it can’t make him 
any worse. I don’t see how we can keep him here. 
Somebody would have to guard him all the time, 
and we shouldn’t feel safe even then.” 

Lem spoke to the Indian and made a sign for 
him to enter the cabin. They all went in, and 
their unwilling guest was seated at the table, with 
one hand still bound at his side. Mrs. Fowler and 
Sue brought out food and set before him, and 
with a grunt, which might have expressed satisfac- 
tion or displeasure equally well, the savage fell to 
eating at a rate that showed his appetite to be un- 
affected by captivity. 

A knife and plate were put on for him to use, but 
greatly to the amusement of the boys he pushed 
these implements of civilization aside, and grabbing 
first a biscuit and then a piece of meat, stuffed 
them into his mouth at a most astonishing rate. 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


37 


Several biscuits and slices of meat shared the 
same fate. Then he gulped down a tin cupful of 
water, after which he uttered another grunt, which 
was no less and no more expressive than the first. 

‘‘Now, do send him off,” exclaimed Mrs. Fowler. 

Lem made a sign, and the Indian followed him 
out to the door. There the youth cut the thong 
confining the captive’s other arm and pointed to- 
wards the forest. 

“You may g-g-go,” said Lem. 

The savage started, for the first time evincing 
surprise. Then he grunted once more with some 
emphasis, and started at a loping trot toward the 
forest. 

He did not make for the spot where he had en- 
countered Lem, however, but took an almost oppo- 
site direction. Ee-entering the cabin the boys 
watched him from a lookout, 

“ He has stopped and is making some signs,” Si 
exclaimed, after a moment. 

The redskin was bending over the ground, with 
his face toward the cabin, and gesticulating in a 
rapid and, to the beholders, an incomprehensible 
manner. Then he wheeled suddenly and ran with 
the speed of the wind toward the forest. 

“ rd like to know what he m-m-means by those 
antics,” said Lem. 

“It may be his way of thanking us for his din- 
ner,” was Rube’s suggestion. 

At that moment Sue came from the smaller room 
which, as I have said, was partitioned from the only 
other room the cabin contained. Her usually calm, 
pretty face was pale with alarm. 

“ Have you seen him ? Davey, I mean,” she cried. 

“Davey? Isn’t he there?” And Mrs. Fowler 
darted through the doorway, while the boys began 
looking here and there, and questioning Sue at the 
same time. 

“ I left him asleep on my bed only a few minutes 
before we went out to look for Lem,” she explained. 


38 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


^^L-l-look up in the 1-1-loft, Si,” said Lemuel, But 
Eube reached the ladder first, and scrambled into 
the loft, while Lem sprang through the opening 
which he had made into the cowshed. 

Si, in his deliberate way, went out of doors. 

Perhaps that redskin’s queer antics meant some- 
thing,” was the suggestion of his slower brain. 

Whether they did or not will be explained in an- 
other chapter. 

Davey was about six years old, with bright blue 
eyes, a curly pate and a little brain which was busy 
all the time hatching mischief or thinking up bright 
things to say. 

Because Sister Sue left him apparently sound 
asleep on her bed was no guarantee that she would 
find him in that condition when she should return. 

The door had scarcely closed after her, in truth, 
before his round eyes were staring up at the hewn 
beams overhead. And as that quickly proved to be 
dull business, he crawled off the bed and crept to the 
door. Opening the latter just a crack he peeped 
warily out, and saw that the room was vacant. He 
could hear Si’s drawl and Eube’s brisk voice out of 
doors, and realizing that for the moment the coast 
was clear, he was soon in the kitchen, and, clam- 
bering upon a stool, reached for a cup of milk on a 
shelf. 

The milk was soon disposed of, partly on the out- 
side of his person, of course, and he then espied the 
opening into the cowshed made by Lem. 

This was something he had not yet explored, and 
he lost no time in making up for the deficiency. 
He crawled feet foremost through the opening and 
dropped to the ground beyond. The shed had no 
window, and only a few rifts of sunshine came in 
through crevices between the logs, and it was there- 
fore a minute or two before he could discern the 
bulky form of the cow. And at the same moment 
he discovered something else which would have 
frightened him had the object not have spoken in a 
very mild, reassuring voice. 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


39 


I won’t hurt you, Davey,” said the voice, which 
somehow had a slightly familiar sound to the child’s 
ears. 

^‘Be you an Injun?” Davey asked, backing 
towards the opening. 

No, Davey, I’m a very good white man,” was 
the reply. And the form advanced and gently drew 
Davey away from the egress. 

The good white man, as the stranger called him- 
self, was very tall, a little stoop-shouldered and 
possessed a very large nose. So much Davey took 
in at a glance and he was further reassured by the 
fact that the man’s lips were drawn away from his 
teeth in what the child thought a tremendous smile 
of good nature, but which might have indicated a 
different emotion to a less credulous observer. 

“ I dess I’ll go tellma you’ve turn,” said Davey, 
with another movement toward the opening. 

In jest a minute, my smart little man,” was the 
flattering response. .And the good white man took 
one of Davey’s hands in his, and leading him to the 
shed door, pushed it open, in a sly sort of way. 

‘^Now, I’m going to tell you something, if you’ll 
promise to be real quiet about it,” said the stranger. 

^‘I won’t teU anybody, ’cept ma,” was the ready 
response. 

‘‘ That is right, my little man. But we want to 
surprise your ma a little bit, don’t we? Now who 
do you suppose is out here waiting to see you ?” 

Davey’s curiosity was excited. He would have 
darted out had he not been held back by that strong 
but not ungentle hand. 

'' Who is it ? Is it Nipmut ? ” 

^^Nipmut” was Davey’s version of Nipmuck, the 
tribe to which Winawis, the friendly Indian, 
belonged, and he never called his red friend any- 
thing else. 

‘‘No. It is your pa! And he wants to seems 
little boy,” said the good white man. 

He pushed the door open wide as he spoke, and 
led Davey out. The child glanced around, expecting 


40 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


to see his father, but in that he was disappointed. 
‘‘Itan’t see pa. I dess he gone round to other 
side of the house were ma is. I dess we better.” 

‘‘ Your pa is out this way, just a few steps. He 
has caught a rabbit for you, all alive, and is fixing 
a cage for him. Let us hurry and see him ! ” 

The good white man hurried the child over the 
ground toward the cornfield, keeping the house be- 
tween them and the members of the Fowler house- 
hold, who were looking for Lem on the opposite side 
of the cabin. It was at that moment that Lem and 
his captive emerged from the forest, so there was 
little danger of the good white man’s action being 
detected by them. 

Where is pa? ’’cried Davey, anxiously, as he 
found that he was being forced to run faster than 
his short legs were fitted for carrying him. 

Just out here a bit further, my little man, fixing 
the cage for the squirrel — ” 

‘ Wou said it vos a rabbit ! ” Davey quickly inter- 
posed. 

“ So I did, and it is a rabbit. I always say squirrel 
when I mean rabbit — isn’t that queer ? ” And look- 
ing up into the face of his captor Davey saw that 
the good-natured smile had broadened until it did 
not seem so pleasant, as at first. 

‘‘ I dess I stop here, and you do and tell pa to turn, 
and I’ll wait,” said Davey, coming resolutely to a 
standstill. 

The good white man glanced back toward the 
cabin, and then at the field of waving corn. Then 
he suddenly bent his tall figure, and his long arms 
caught the child up to his breast, so quickly and 
with so rnuch force as to smother the outcry which 
Davey tried to make. A few swift strides brought 
him to the field of corn. A few more carried him 
out of sight of the cabin. And there he came to a 
halt, and placed his captive upon the ground. 

Davey was too much terrified then to scream. The 
good white man still seemed to be smiling, only the 
smile had grown dreadful to the child. All the good 


STRATEGY THAT FAILED. 


41 


nature had gone out of it. Yet he had genuine 
backwoods material in him, and pluckily restrained 
the sob of terror that rose in his breast. 

‘ ‘ Wh ere is my pa ? ” he exclaimed . ‘ ‘ I dess you 

ain’t a dood white man. I don’t b’lieve my pa has 
dot me any rabbit.” 

Yes, he has, and he is right out here a little 
ways further,” said his captor. And he tried to lead 
the boy deeper into the cornfield. 


But Davey hung back with all his strength and 
uttered a sharp scream of mingled anger and terror, 
which would have been heard at the cabin had the 
wind not blown so as to carry the sound away from 
instead of toward the dwelling. 

The good white man again raised the child in his 
arms. He had a heavy musket in one hand, and 
evidently found a double burden cumbersome. He 
began to penetrate further into the sheltering field 
of grain, but advanced only a few paces before he 
saw something to bring him again to a halt. A 
man was running toward them along an aisle be- 
tween rows of corn. The man was Josiah Fowler, 
and he exclaimed in a quick, hoarse voice : 

‘‘Eun to your right, Slas, quick ! ThatNipmuck- 
Winawis heard the boy’s scream. I’ll cover your 
flight.” 

Davey heard the words, but did not recognize the 
voice. His captor held him so that he could not 
get a glimpse of his father, and wheeling abruptly 
ran swiftly in a direction at right angles with his 
former course. Almost at the same moment the 
figure of a lithe Indian warrior sprang into view, 
and pausing, glanced keenly about him. 

Davey saw the young Indian and cried joyfully : 

^^Nipmlit! Nipmut!” 

Winawis heard the cry, perceived the child and 
his captor, and with the grace and fleetness of a 
young deer bounded in pursuit. , 

As he sped past the spot where Davey’s father 
stood, this strange man raised his gun and took 
hasty aim at- the friendly Mpmuck. 


CHAPTEE V. 

ON THE TRAIL. 

Deliberate as the action of Mr. Fowler seemed to ' 
be, he was really far from being cool. The young 
Indian was running rapidly, but the range was so 
short that an ordinary marksman ought not to have 
missed. Yet Fowler’s gun was discharged without 
bringing Winawis to a halt. 

The young Nipmuck heard the report of the piece; 
he might even have heard the bullet as it whistled 
past his face and clipped through the corn. Yet he 
did not halt for an instant, or even turn his face to 
see whence the shot proceeded. It was enough for 
him that he had an enemy before him, and another 
in his rear, and that if he paused to face the latter 
he would lose sight of the one, and at the same 
time the chance of rescuing the child, whose cries 
had aroused his chivalry. 

Davey’s captor, aware of the pursuit, darted 
hither and thither amid the sheltering rows, of 
corn, and thus rendered the attempts of the Indian 
more difficult than he could have done merely by a 
displ^ of. superior fleetness. 

The young Indian anticipated some strategy of 
this character, and so did not waste his powers in 
mere speed, which would avail nothing. After 
passing from the view of Fowler, he slackened his 
pace to a brisk walk, with his lithe body bent for- 
ward, and his gaze roving rapidly from side to side, 
and penetrating the shadowy aisles of corn. Sev- 
eral times he paused to listen, and once he was sure 
he heard the sound of retreating footsteps. Still, 
persistent and patient though he was, considerable 
time elapsed without any encouraging results. At 


ON THE TRAIL. 


43 


last, however, he came suddenly to a halt, unslung 
the long how from his back and deftly fitted an 
arrow to the string. Nothing could have been more 
quickly or silently done. It was no wonder that 
such an expert with that silent and supple weapon 
clung to its use even in the face of its manifest 
inferiority in most cases to the white man’s musket. 
AV^inawis drew the arrow half-way to the head, and 
held it poised there, without a quiver of muscle, 
for a full minute. Then he as quickly loosed the 
string, and, with bow and arrow held in his left 
hand, advanced with his right extended. 

^‘My young white brother!” he exclaimed, a 
faint smile of pleasure lighting his dark face. 

Lucky for you I got a glimpse of your face jnst 
as I did, for I had a bead drawn on you that I 
shouldn’t have missed,” said Silas Fowler, his usual 
drawl marked by a slight tremor. His hand, clasped 
for an instant in that of the Indian, trembled also. 

“ The arrow would have beaten the bullet, was 
the Indian’s reply, which Si could not dispute, since 
the bent bow and muscular arm of Wmawis was 
the first sign of the latter’s presence presented to the 
white youth’s vision. 

‘^You are iust the one I was wishing I might 
meet ” said Si. Winawis looked steadily into his 
face, ’but did not speak. He seemed to be listening. 
Silas continued : “You know, of course, that there 
are unfriendly Indians about ? The woods are full 
of them, and I expect they have carried off Davey 
We are looking for him high and low, and I think I 
found the trail of the the one that carried him off, 
hut I lost it again. You’re such a famous hand to 
follow a trail that Lem said you could help us more 
in hunting for him than a whole company of white 

How' long has. our little brother been missing «” 
asked the young Indian, in English which was more 
perfect and sounding more musical than from the 
lips of the white youth. 


44 


ON THE TRAIL. 


Only an hour or two. He was taken from the 
shed by our cabin, and we don’t know just how long 
it was before we found it out.” 

And you are sure that it was an unfriendly red 
man w^ho carried him away?” pursued Winawis, 
still seeming to be listening. 

Of course it was. They tried to attack the cab- 
in, and Lem has had a fight with two of them.” 

The Indian bent and pointed with an arrow at 
several footprints in the soft earth at their feet. 

Those are tracks of a white man, and he carried 
a burden. See how uneven he was running, and 
how he turned from side to side.” 

While he spoke thus Winawis rapidly walked 
along the trail he had pointed out, and by stepping 
in the tracks themselves, gave a vivid illustration of 
the zigzag flight of Davy’s captor. Then, without 
pausing, he beckoned for Silas to follow, and, with 
rapid, noiseless steps, advanced along the trail, 
though he no longer attempted to step in the exact 
footprints he was following. 

Si kept close behind his red friend, a new confi- 
dence in the latter’s powers being awakened. They 
kept on thus for several minutes, and still they did 
not emerge from the cornfield. 

We’re going in a circle,” he exclaimed at last. 
Winawis made no reply, and Si added, in a breath- 
less drawl : 

'' My legs ache. There are a lot of tracks along 
here, and they’re so mixed up. I don’t see how you 
can make head or tail of ’em.” 

The young Indian kept on for another full minute, 
and then abruptly halted with the gutteral '' Ugh ! ” 
of his race. 

They were near the edge of the field, and glimpses 
of the adjacent forest could be obtained from where 
they stood. 

Winawis pointed to the yellow loam between the 
rows of corn. ^^‘Look! ” he exclaimed, with an 
eagerness that Silas did not understand until a mo- 


ON THE TRAIL. 


45 


ment later. For at first he saw only the tracks 
which they had been following and whicli he had by 
this time become sufficiently familiar with to recog- 
nize. The young Indian pointed at these first, at a 
point where the fugitive had evidently halted. Then 
he indicated others, which appeared to have come 
from a different direction and had likewise halted. 
And between these two, where the persons seemed 
to have paused for hasty consultation, was a pair of 
small footprints— the footprints of a .bare-foot child. 

“Davey’s tracks, sure,” Si exclaimed, excitedly. 

Hush,” cautioned his companion. 

Now weh’e sure we’re on the right trail. Follow 
it fast as you can, and for once ITl try and be swift,” 
said the white youth, thrilled by the hope of soon 
overtaking the captor of Davey, and taking a hand 
in the fescue. 

My pale brother shows that he looks without 
seeing,” said Winawis, bending closely over the 
footprints. 

Why ? What is wrong now ? ” 

When there was only one trail we knew how to 
follow it. Now there are two, and they both lead 
into the forest. Our little brother was put down 
here and taken up again. We see no more of his 
tracks, and how do we know which carried him 
away. Did the one that brought him here give him 
to the other ? Can my brother tell which trail to 
follow ?” 

Si could only look helplessly at the dark face of 
his companion. He began to realize that he would 
have made a very poor scout had he attempted to 
follow the trails unaided. 

His reflections were interrupted by the Indian, 
who quickly drew him back from the edge of the 
field. At the same time Winawis dropped to a 
crouching posture, an action which even Si was not 
slow in imitating, for he heard rapidly approaching 
footsteps from the direction of the woods. An in- 
stant later two figures emerged from the forest 


46 


ON THE TRAIL. 


shadows and stood motionless, in a Jistening atti- 
tude, facing the cornfield. 

One was an Indian in war paint ; the other Si 
Fowler recognized with a thrill of dismay as his 
father. Only the restraining hand of Winawis 
withheld the white youth from springing to his feet. 

It .will be understood that Si Fowler had no sus- 
picion that his father was concerned in the abduc- 
tion of Davey. 

Though a very eccentric man, Mr. Fowler always 
manifested considerable affection for his youngest 
boy. Therefore it would have been all the more 
absurd to suspect him of having a hand in anything 
that might injure the child. However thoughtless 
or unkind he might be toward other mem.bers of his 
family. Si thought, Mr. Fowler would do at least all 
in his power to protect helpless little Davey. 

But the hand of Winawis was sufficient to re- 
strain him from exposing their nearness to his 
father. The presence of the hostile Indian served 
as a further check ; and in his slow way Si made up 
his mind to leave the direction of affairs, for the 
present, to the sagacious Nipmuck. 

The white and red youths held their breaths as 
they waited to see what Mr. Fowler and his com- 
panion would do next. The white man was speak- 
^ ing in a low, rapid tone, and in the French language, 
which it was evident the Indian understood. Neither 
Si nor Winawis could interpret a word. It was the 
firstintimation Silas had that his eccentric father 
, understood any language beside his own. , 

That they were in danger of discovery the young 
Indian was aware, for it was only by a lucky chance 
that the gaze of the two men was not directed to- 
ward them. The slightest movement on the part 
of either would surely betray their presence. But 
they were soon relieved of that phase of suspense. 
Mr. Fo^yler and his red companion turned and re- 
treated into the forest, separating as they entered its 
shadows. 


ON THE TRAIL. 


‘‘Well, that beats anything,” exclaimed Si, rising 
to his feet. “ My young brother had better return 
to his home,” said Winawis in a hurried tone. 

“ And leave Davey to be carried olf by the var- 
mints ? I told Lem and mam that I was going to 
find you, and that we’d fetch Davey back safe and 
sound, and I’m not going to back out. Another 
thing I’m going to find out, and that is what father 
means by his queer capers. What business has he 
with that painted scamp ? Did you know what they 
were saying ? ” , ^ 

“Winawis could not understand the words or 
their lips, but he read the language of their faces 
and hands. Go back to the cabin, where your rifle 
may be needed. Hurry, there is no time to lose ! 
Our little brother shall be found and brought back. 
But it will take a fleet foot and keen eyes to follow 
the trail. Tell the pale mother and brave sister to 
trust their red friend. Ha wiU bring back Davey 
before another sun has come and gone.” 

There was something of command in the young 
Indian’s speech, and he did not wait for the slow- 
brained Si to remonstrate. Before the latter could 
utter a word the Nipmunk sprang boldly out of the 
cornfield and plunged into the^orest. 

Si hesitated, then started to follow, with the dog- 
ged persistency of his nature . But before he had gone 
twenty yards better judgment prevailed, and he 
turned to retrace his steps. 

As he did so he was startled by the sound of rapid 
footsteps, and they were coming so directly to- 
ward him that he had no time for flight. He was 
on the very edge of the forest, and he naturally 
chose the nearest large tree for shelter, an act wise 
enough in itself, but culminating in the present in- 
stance in a peculiar and unforeseen danger. 

The tree, for a space of six or seven feet from the 
ground, was partially hollow, and for effectual p^" 
tection Si squeezed himself into the cavity. At the 
same time he heard the footsteps which had caused 


48 


ON THE TRAIL. 


his alarm pause close to the same tree, upon the 
opposite side, while a shadowy figure likewise ap- 
peared in front of him and only a few yards distant. 
The youth realized that he w^as literally ‘"betw^een 
two fires ” — someone, whether friend or foe to him- 
self he did not yet know, having chosen the same 
tree as himself as shelter from another person in 
front of him. 

Si had never been in what could be called a tight 
pinch before. Yet, as a backwoods boy, he v/as 
trained to expect danger, and he was by nature as 
calm and deliberate as a clock. 

‘‘If they’re enemies to each other it follows that 
one or t’other may be a friend to me,” he refiected. 

He let his gun rest in the tree by his side and 
grasped the cumbersome pistol which he carried in 
his belt. This weapon, placed beside the revolvers 
of the present day, would make my readers smile 
at the comparison. But Si would not have parted 
with it at that moment for hardly anything in the 
world. 

He was not long kept in suspense as to the person 
he saw flitting from tree to tree. The figure was 
that of an Indian, and as agile of movement as a 
cat. It reached a treb scarce a dozen yards from 
Silas, and from behind that shelter reached out a 
bare, muscular arm in a peculiar gesture that the 
white youth recognized and understood. The arm 
belonged to Winawis ; the gesture meant, “ Stay 
where you are !” And all the while Si could hear 
his foe’s deep breathing on the other side of the tree, 
and realized that only the shell of the decayed 
trunk separated them. 

The young Nipmuck understood the peril of Si’s 
position better than did Si himself. He realized the 
danger of every moment’s delay, and did not hesi- 
tate to increase his own hazard to bring affairs to a 
crisis. Without waiting for the foe to begin tactics, 
he boldly exposed his own person to the enemy’s 
fire, although he kept dodging from side to side, 


ON THE TRAIL. 


49 


half behind his tree, that he by no means afforded 
a sure mark. A moment later he ran swiftly to 
another tree, at the same time beginning to gesticu- 
late as though beckoning to a friend somewhere 
beyond his adversary. 

This stratagem, coupled with his boldness, re- 
sulted just as he intended. The hostile Indian 
thought his own concealment to be unsafe, and 
tried to dart across an open space to another tree. 

Si could not see all these maneuvers without ex- 
posing his own person, but he heard the rapid foot- 
steps of the foe, and almost simultaneously a twang, 
a whiz, and a short, sharp cry that sent a strange 
sensation to his heart. Then he saw Winawis run- 
ning toward him, shouting and gesticulating, and 
his own peril shut out whatever unpleasant feelings 
the tragedy which had been enacted so near him 
might have caused. 

‘‘Run, run for the cornfield, and home,” cried the 
young Indian. 

Si started to obey, and at the same time heard 
shouts from the rear, from the right and the left. 
They were responses from the stricken enemy’s 
comrades. It seemed to Si that his legs were 
changed into logs of wood, they were so heavy. 

“ Run — home,” urged the young Nipmuck, and 
the white youth never tried so hard to overcome his 
natural slowness. He would have prefeiTed to 
pause and openly fight his pursuers, but the voice 
of his red friend urged him on. He reached the 
open space betwixt the forest and cornfield, crossed 
it, and was on the point of entering the latter 
when he heard a heavy tread behind. 

“ Stop, Silas ! come back !” exclaimed a stern 
voice, which he recTogni^ed. More from the habit 
of obedience to that voice than to anything else he 
paused and faced about. 

“ I don’t know why I need to run from you,” he 
exclaimed in his slowest drawl^ for he was face to 
face with his father. 


50 


OK THE TRAIL. 


Silas had reached the edge of the cornfield, and 
penetrated it far enough to be concealed from his 
other enemies who might be on the’ lookout from 
the forest. Winawis was no longer in sight, and 
Si and his father were practically alone. 

There’s no need of your running from me, 
that’s a fact,” said Mr. Fowler, advancing until he 
was within an arm’s length of the youth. 

‘‘No more than there was for you to chase me the 
way you were doing. About as broad as it is long, 
father,” Silas returned. 

“If you keep with me you won’t have any 
trouble. Did you come out to look for me ? Are 
your mother and the rest with you ? ” 

“ I left them at the house, and came out to look 
for Davey. I expect the redskins have got hold of 
him somehow.” 

“ That comes of your mother’s and Lemuel’s dis- 
obeying me. I told you ah what to do, and if you 
had minded ” 

“We might all of us be in the same fix that 
Davey is ! ” Si interrupted, as the strange behavior 
of his father slowly crowded on his memory. He 
had halted in obedience to his father’s command 
from an impulse, and now he was glad he had done 
so, for he was resolved to know the truth of Mr. 
Fowler’s relations with the French and Indian 
enemies of the white settlers. 

“Do you think I would get my own family into 
danger ? ” Mr. Fowler demanded. 

“ I don’t know what to think. I saw you with a 
redskin a little while ago, and you were talking in 
some lingo that I couldn’t understand . The Indian 
was in war paint, and as ugly looking a critter as 
you could find. , What does that mean ? ” 

Fowler looked surprised, but hastened to reply : 

“It means that I have power to protect myself 
and my family if they only trusted me.” 

“You wanted us to surrender.” 

“ Because it was for your safety. I can’t help 
you any if you hold out ^nd make a fight.” 


ON THE TRAIL. 


61 


SPs brain, like his legs, was rather slow to act. 
But as he thought of the settlers’ cabins which had 
been burned, and the stories of Indian cruelty which 
he had heard and knew to be true, it occurred to him 
that there must be something wrong about a white 
man who was friendly with these French and In- 
dian allies. There was something questionable 
even in obtaining protection at their hands. It was 
a hard conclusion to reach, but Si began to think 
that, in some mysterious way, his father was in 
league with the enemies of the colonists. The 
youth’s recent peril had made him quite pale. But 
now a determined flush crept slowly into his cheeks. 

‘‘You want us to surrender to those red and 
white varmints ! ” he exclaimed in his slow way. 

“ Why not, if they promise not to harm you 

“ Who have they made that promise to ?” 

To me.” 

“Do. they make the same offer to other set- 
tlers?” 

“ That isn’t our business. If they have taken a 
fancy to us, then it is our good luck, and we must 
make the most of it.” 

Si looked steadily at his father while they were 
speaking, and now he began slowly to walk back- 
ward. 

“Hold on! What are you going to do?” the 
other exclaimed. 

“I’m going home to tell the folks what you 
say,” was the drawling reply. 

“ And you will all come out and join me, and be 
taken to a safer place ? ” 

“ If they want to after I tell ’em about you they 
may. But I’ll stay and fight it out alone afore I 
will go with you 1 I’ll run off and join the white 
scouts in the valley, and help ’em to defend the set- 
tlers from the redskins that you think more of than 
of us 1 ” 

Fowler advanced, his face ablaze with anger. Si 
started to run, but glancing back and seeing his 


52 


ON THE TRAIL. 


father in the act of leveling his gun, he halted 
again, his heart seeming to turn to a lump of 
lead. 

Shoot me if you want to ! ’’ he cried, in a 
choked voice, ‘‘ I might shoot, too, but I had 
rather be killed than do that ! 

For a moment the twain stood thus, the man’s 
eyes flashing along the barrel of his weapon, the 
boy erect and motionless, with pale cheeks and 
quivering lips. Then the weapon was lowered, and 
as though fearful lest the impulse might forsake 
him, the strange father turned and ran toward the 
forest. He disappeared without having once looked 
backward. In the meanwhile the indications of the 
presence of other foes had continued. There was a 
report of a firearm, and loud, signalling whoops, all 
indicating that the brave young Nipmuck was do- 
ing all in his power to divert the attention of the 
foe from the white youth. ‘‘ He would lose his life 
in my defense ! ” Si exclaimed, thrilling with grati- 
tude toward his red friend. 

It isn’t color that makes the savage, after all,” 
he continued, as he walked rapidly toward the 
cabin. He reached the edge of the cornfield, and 
before leaving its shelter took a careful survey of 
the clearing. 

So far as the eye could discern all was secure 
about the cabin. There had been no attack made 
in his absence, and as the day was drawing toward 
a close there was httle danger of one till some time 
after nightfall. 

But now there was the certainty of numerous 
foes Jh the vicinity, Silas dreaded the coming of 
night. That a great struggle would come then he 
felt sure. About Davey he did not worry so much, 
for he began to believe the sagacious young Nip- 
muck was able to .perform any wonder of bravery 
or strategy, and that he would save the child from 
his captors, as he had promised. 

Striking into a trot Si soon reached the cabin. 


ON THE TRAIL. 


53 


‘^oor for him, and before closing it 


I ‘What n-n-news, Si 

‘‘I have seen Winawis and he was on the trail 
when I met him. If anybody can save Davey that 
inclian can, and he has promised to do it.’’ 

In answer to their questioning he gave, in his 
dravvhng tones, a partial account of his adventures 
^ut he made no mention of the encounter with his 
rather, nor of seeing the latter with the hostile 
Indian. 

It was not until an hour later that he had a chance 
to say to Lem, in a low tone which the others could 
not overhear : 

“ I shall bust if I don’t tell you the rest of mv ad- 
ventures.” 


‘‘I thought you was k-k-keeping something back,” 
said Lem. ® ’ 

“I saw father. He is with the French and Indi- 
ans, and talks their lingo with ’em, and I beheve he 
IS a traitor to the backbone ! ” 

^ Things have looked d-d-dark a good while, and 
that is why I s-s-stood out against him last night,” 
was the gravely spoken response. 

“You don’t think he’ll let the varmints serve us 
as they do other settlers, do you ?” Si exclaimed. 

^ “ Not if he can help it. That is why he is so anx- 
ious for us to surrender.” 

“ If we hold out what can he do ? ” 

“Maybe he can save us if we’re taken prisoners 
But if there is a f-f -fight he can’t help what h-h-hap- 
pens in that.” 

Si detailed his encounter with Mr. Fowler in the 
cornfield, and repeated his own answer to the man’s 
proposition. 

“Did I do right or wrong, Lem?” he asked, a 
tremor in his tones. 

“You did b-b-bravely, Si.” 

“ And what will marm say ? and Sue ? ” 

'‘That we won’t turn traitors because d-d-dad has.” 


54 : 


ON THE TRAIL. 


Lem ! Si ! quick ! ” cried Eube at that instant 
from the front of the cabin, where he had been 
making an observation. 

They did not need to be called to the lookout, for 
the sounds of rapid firing and terrifying yells in that 
direction apprised them that a startling demonstra- 
tion was being made. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE STRANGER. 

Not only the older boys responded to Rube’s call, 
but Mrs. Fowler and Sue also, the latter gun in 
hand. 

Neither mother or daughter had shed any tears 
over the capture of Davey. The oppressive weight 
of the great danger compassing them all ; the call 
for resolute action and unwavering coolness ; the 
strange desertion, in their need, of the one to whom 
they should have looked for protection — all roused 
in them a sort of masculine fortitude that tears 
could not express or relieve. 

‘‘We are all in God’s hands, and he can help 
Davey as easy as he can the rest of us ! ” was the 
pious thought that the mother uttered and the 
daughter echoed, when they became assured that 
Davey was really in the hands of the enemy. 

What Rube saw through the loophole was this : 
The small clearing, with the rosy hue of sunset 
upon it, the black-green forest beyond and ruddy 
clouds above, just, as they appeared upon any 
pleasant evening of that most golden of summer 
months. Upon the edge of the forest, where the 
darkness of night fell while it was yet day in the 
opening. Rube saw the flash of guns — three or four 
of them— fired in quick succession ; and nearer, 
half-way across the clearing, was the object of the 
shots, running, leaping, falling and springing up 
^gain, with such rapidity that the watchers could 
scarce follow its movements. 

In the twilight that was settling over the scene it 
was hard to tell whether the fugitive were red or 
'W'hite^ male or female, That it ” was making for 


56 


THE STRANGER. 


the Fowler cabin was plain enough ; and likewise 
that no serious injury had been done by the shots 
of the foe. 

‘‘We must let the poor critter in quick as he gits 
to the door/’ exclaimed Mrs. Fowler, her heart 
quick to respond to the need of the stranger. 

“Take away the brace, Si, but d-d-don’t o-open 
the door till I s-s-say the word,” said Lem. 

The brace was removed, while those at the look- 
out saw several dusky forms flitting to and f?:o 
along the edge of the forest. 

“ G-g-give ’em a shot, Kube ! ” was Lem’s next 
suggestion. At the same moment the Indians 
began firing again, and the thud, thud of bullets in 
the logs of the cabin could be distinctly heard. 

Kube’s gun “spoke” through the loophole, and 
told the Indians that the cabin home was not with- 
out defenders. Its report was encouraging to the 
approaching fugitive also, and served to give him 
renewed courage. He stood more erect, and ran 
more directly toward the cabin door. He did not 
have to pause even when he reached it, for Si 
opened it wdde, and the stranger staggered across 
the threshold and fell full length on the floor, where 
he lay panting and apparently too exhausted to stir 
or speak. 

“Keep a sharp lookout, b-b-boys,^’ Lem admon- 
ished. He bent over the stranger and .peered into 
his face, and then spoke/to him encouragingly. 

“ You’re safe now, mister,” he said. “You had a 
pretty close r-rub, though, and the redskins must 
have been poor shots to have m-missed you. Was 
you struck anywhere ? Here, S-S-Sue, fetch some 
whiskey, afore the man f-f-faints clean away ! ” 

Some liquor was poured in a tin cup and Sue held 
it to the man’s lips while Lem held him up. It w^as 
surprising to see how readily the whiskey was 
gulped down, considering the exhausted state of the 
fugitive. 

“Poes that b-b-brace you up any Lem asked as 


THE STRANGER. 67 

the man cast a wistful glance after the empty cup as 
Sue carried it away. 

A very little,” was the faint response, and the 
fugitive leaned with great weigh b against Lem’s 
arms. 

‘‘ He wants more whiskey,” suggested Rube. 

^‘Better give him c-c-catnip tea next time. Too 
m-m-much whiskey might hurt him when he’s so 
weak,” said Lem, who began to suspect that the 
man would not get any stronger as long as there 
was a prospect of being dosed with an agreeable 
medicine. That this theory was not without foun- 
dation was indicated by the man opening his eyes 
and rising to a sitting posture. Seeing that Sue had 
taken Lem’s suggestion of catnip in good faith, the 
stranger quickly said : 

‘‘ Never mind about that, miss. I couldn’t abide 
the yarb, no how — it alius went agin me. I’m 
pretty weak, though— hard runnin’ and loss of 
blood.” 

^‘Then you were h-h-hit ?” Lem exclaimed. 

Nothin’ serious — tied it up with my hankercher 
— ye needn’t take the trouble to look at it, bein’s the 
wimnien-folks might be squeamish at seein’ the 
blood. Right there’ in the calf of my leg.” 

Lem noticed then for the first time that the man 
had a bandage around his right leg, a little below 
the knee. He would have examined it, but the man 
hastily drew up the limb, laying : 

Don’t tech it — please don’t ! I’d ruther wait till 
I feel a bit stronger.” 

Better have it seen to before inflammation 
g-g-gets in,” Lem persisted. 

‘‘ No, no, I tell ye ! I’d ruther wait ” 

The fugitive rose to his feet and sat down on the 
settee. He was a short man, of muscular frame 
and not over-intelligent features. It was too dark 
in the room to make out more than this, but Lem 
had observed him too closely to be favorably im- 
pressed, 


68 


THE STRANGER. 


''Did the Indians make you a p-prisoner Lem 
asked, sitting on the other end of the settee and 
eyeing their guest sideways. 

‘ ‘ They tried to, but didn’t make out. But they’ve 
done enough ter me. They’ve burnt down my cabin 
and kerned off my dear wife and little un ! Like 
enough they’ve tomahawked ’em afore this. ” There 
was a pitiful whine in the man’s tones that aroused 
the sympathy of Mrs. Fowler and Sue. 

“ They’re a cruel lot, and I hope the s-s-settlers 
and scouts may g-g-get together and drive ’em off,” 
said Lem, who somehow found it hard to express 
great sympathy for their guest. The latter impressed 
the youth as being selfish, and ‘somewhat of a cow- 
ard. Still he did not wish to show the stranger in- 
justice. 

The man relapsed into silence and Lem roused 
him by another question. 

When was your house b-b-burned ?” 

"Last night — ’bout midnight, should say,” was 
the answer. 

" What have you b-b-been doing since 

" Dodgin’ redskins, mostly. I tried to follow 
them that hurried off my dear uns” — with another 
whine — " but it was no use. . That’s how I came to 
get shot a-tryiiT to save my dear uns ! ” 

" I can’t abide that m-m-man’s whine,” said Lem 
to Si, half an hour later. 

"About as musical as his snoring, though,” Si 
drawled, as a puffing, then a hoarse nasal sound 
came from their guest, who had thrown himself 
down on the floor and almost immediately fallen 
asleep. 

The stranger speedily showed them what he was 
capable of doing in that most peculiar line. Louder 
and louder became his respirations, and the 
strangest and most indescribable sounds were emit- 
ted from nostrils and half'open mouth. Rube and 
Si laughed, and the former suggested that they innch 
the sleeper’s nose and put a stop to the uproar. 


THE STRANGER. 


59 


/'W-w-wait,’’ said Lem. He approached the 
slumbering stranger, bent over him for a moment 
to see that he was not shamming, and then pro- 
ceeded cautiously to remove the bandage from his 
leg. It was but a momemt’s work. The stocking 
was whole, and Lem boldly drew it down until the 
bandaged portion of the limb was bared. 

‘‘Just as I suspected b-b-boys,” Lem exclaimed, 
rising to his feet and standing over the sleeper. 
“ His leg is as sound as mine is. He is a h-h-hum- 
bug ! ” 

Lem took no pains to utter the announcement of 
his discovery in a cautious tone, nor did he restore 
the stocking or bandage to their places. StiU the 
sleeper was not disturbed. 

“ I should never have thought of such a thing,” 
exclaimed Sue. 

“He didn’t s-s-seem quite genuine to me from the 
first,” Lem replied. 

“ Maybe he’s a traitor ! ” was the startling sugges- 
tion of Rube. 

“ Or he may be only a coward,” drawled Si, who 
was not given to conjuring startling things when 
milder explanations would answer the purpose. 

“ He had better not t-t-try to humbug us, in any 
case,” stammered the dignified Lem, in his deter- 
mined way. Sue had lighted a candle, which was 
placed in the corner of the room where it would 
shed only a faint light upon window and loopholes, 
for it was unsafe to give the watchful foe too great 
a temptation to test their skill with the rifle. 

Lem was impatient to demand an explanation of 
the stranger. 

“We did as we’d like to be d-d-done by, and took 
him in when it looked as if his life d-d-depended on 
us, and if he isn’t square then he must g-g-go, and 
that in a h-h-hurry.” 

“Be careful, Lemuel,” cautioned Mrs. Fowler. 

“ Would you h-h-harbor him if he means 
treachery ? ” 


60 


THE STRANGER. 


^^No. But remember that weVe got more to 
fight agin’ us than we have to fight for us, and it’s 
better to make a friend than another enemy.” 

‘'You’re right, mother. But if he means m-m- 
mischief we can’t show him too soon that he has 
got into the wrong b-b-box.” 

“ Let me pinch his nose, Lem,” said Eube. 

“ He’d be for pinching Kube’s neck before the fun 
was over,” Si put in. 

Lem returned to the slumbering stranger, and, 
seizing his shoulder, gave him a good shake. The 
man sat bolt upright in an instant, and the first 
object that caught his eye was the bandage which 
Lem had stripped from the supposed wound. 

“ Eh !” he ejaculated, as his gaze went from the 
handkerchief to the bared leg. 

“We have away of healing such m-m-matters 
when a m-m-man is asleep,” said Lem dryly. 

“I declare for’t !” The stranger hastily covered 
the bared limb, pocketed the bandage and rose to 
his feet with a crestfallen air. 

“W-w-we should have used you just as well if 
you hadn’t told us any 1-1-lies,” Lem continued. 

“I didn’t mean nothin,’ I declare for’t,” asseverated 
the man with great earnestness. 

“We like folks that mean s-s-something. How 
about the rest of your s-s-story ? What did you 
come here f-f-for ?” 

“ For. protection, true as I live ! I didn’t lie about 
my cabin bein’ burnt, and my dear uns — ” 

“S-s-stop whining or 111 put you out and let 
you s-s-shift for yourself ! ” Lem interrupted, so 
sternly that the stranger relapsed into silence, while 
the sullen gleam came into his eyes. Lem took a 
pistol, slowly cocked it and handed it to Si, say- 
ing : 

“I’m going to s s-search this man, and if he 
makes a foul move, sh-sh-shoot him as quick as you 
can ! Now 1-1 -look sharp and not let him get the 
b-b-best of us all,” 


THE STRAKGER. 61 

Si advanced to comply ; Rube started to join him, 
but Lem motioned him back. 

“You and marm must keep on the w-w- watch 
for the redskins. S-S-Sue will stand ready to help 
Si and me if we n-n-need her.’’ 

Then to their guest, who stood uneasily shifting 
his feet : 

“ If that w-w-wound in your leg don’t p-p-pain 
you too bad, I wish you’d stand still.” 

The man complied with a grim smile. The search 
only brought forth a concealed pistol, with a small 
stock of ammunition for the same. 

“ Take care of ’em, S-S-Sue,” said Lem, handing 
the articles over to his sister. “ He won’t n-n-need 
them while I’m ’round to protect him ! ” the youth 
dryly added. 

, “Hope ye’re satisfied,” said the stranger. 

“I’m not, and d-d-ddn’t expect to be while you 
s-s-stay under this roof.” 

“Want me to go out and be tomahawked by 
them varmints, do ye ?” 

“No. But if you’re what you p-p-pretend to be, 
give us your name, and tell where your Qabin 
stood. I don’t think there were many s-s-settlers 
within twenty miles that we haven’t heard t-t-tell 
of.” 

The man hesitated only a moment, and then 
answered : 

“ I s’pose it’s all right in ye to ax questions. My 
name is Solomon Wheeler, and I built my cabin 
about eight miles south of here, on the meader. It 
ain’t been built more’n a year. That ’ere is the 
solemn truth, and I’ll swear to ’t if ye ain’t satis- 
fied.” 

“ You needn’t be to the t-t -trouble to s-s-swear,” 
Lem replied, turning his attention to a loophole, 
through which he took a survey of the clearing. 

The darkness of night had settled fully upon 
forest and clearing, and with it had come a silence 
that was almost oppressive. There were few nights 


62 


THE STRANGER. 


indeed that the dismal hooting of owls, or occasional 
signal cry of a wolf, or more constant and nearer 
song of whip-poor-wills, did not testify to nocturnal 
life on every side of the lonely cabin home. But 
now all these sounds were hushed, or if they were 
heard at all it was only at such rare intervals, and 
with such brief continuance that they were more 
unnatural and startling than the stillness. 

As Lem’s gaze swept the narrow range command- 
ed by the lookout he thought of Davey, and won- 
dered if Winawis would succeed in his quest ; and 
of his father, who had so mysteriously chosen to 
leave a defenceless home. 

I never understood him, and he never tried to 
understand me, and now it has come to an open 
fight betwixt us ? ” he refiected, with a strange feel- 
ing of bitterness, as though fate had shown him the 
hardest kind of injustice. 

‘^If he had been honest with us from the first, 
and told us what he meant to do, we shouldn’t 
have been obliged to follow him about whenever it 
suited him to pull up stakes and plant a new home. 
We could have done so much better by ourselves- 
Instead of being a help, he has kept us down.” 

_ The youth’s refiections were broken by a hand on 
his arm. He knqw whose hand it was without 
looking, and said in a low, gentle tone : 

Harm, dear, what is it ? ” 

‘‘ About this Solomon ¥7heeler, Lemuel. Did yoa 
ever hear of him afore ? ” 

‘Wes. F-f -father has spoken of him.” 

“They have been hunting together. I’ve heard 
him say,” said Mrs. Fowler, thoughtfully. 

“And never f-f -fetched home any g-g-game ! And. 
likely they’ve been fishing without c-c-catching any 
f-f-fish. It 1-looks as if father and this S-S-Solomon 
both knew how to tell 1-1-lies if they had poor 1-luck 
in hunting and f-fishing.” 

“ Then you think this man is here for mischief ? 

“It’ll be the w-worse for him if he is,” was Lem’^ 


THE STRANGER. 


63 

response. As he said this he slowly faced about and 
laid a large palm on each of his mother’s shoulders, 
looking tenderly down at her from his six feet of 
height. 

‘‘Marm,” he exclaimed, his voice trembling with 
emotion, ‘^you had t-t-three boys big enough to fight 
for you when father d-d-deserted us, and they’re 
going to stand by you and their home as long as 
they can 1-1-load and f-f-fire ! ” 

God will stand by us all if we’re as brave as you 
be ! ” was the tremulous response. 

Their guest was asleep and snoring again. Si and 
Lem were at the lookout. Rube dozed on the set- 
tee, with his curly head resting against the log wall 
of the cabin. Sue and her mother sat and talked 
in low tones. For an hour affairs in the cabin 
were precisely the same. Then Si abruptly crossed 
over to Lem’s lookout and spoke to him in a low 
tone. 

‘‘N-n-now is the t-time, then,” was Lem’s re- 
sponse. And both silently went over to where their 
guest lay asleep. 

As they approached the sleeping stranger, Lem 
took some thongs from his pocket. They were the 
same which he had used for binding the Indian 
earlier in the day. 

had better hold him and 1-1-let you tie the 
knots. Mind, though, and t-t-tie ’em tight.” 

Without a second’s delay, Lem quickly bent over 
the man and seized his wrists. There was a snort 
of alarm from the suddenly awakened stranger, who 
made a powerful effort to throw off the grasp which 
was upon him. But Lem had made sure of his hold, 
and although the man succeeded in rising to a sit- 
ting posture, he was thrown back again with 
enough of force to teach him more caution. 

Sue, come and sh-sh-shoot this man if he d-don’t 
lie still ! ” exclaimed Lem, and the resolute girl ad- 
vanced so promptly, pistol in hand, that SolAmon 


64 


T^HE STRAMEE. 


Wheeler learned still further prudence from the 

grim threat. ^ i • 

‘'T-t-tie’em strong, Si— his wrists first, then his 
ankles. S-s-so— you’re d-d-doing well. ’’ 

It was all done in a moment, and their guest lay 
on the cabin floor as securely a prisoner as helpless 
hands and feet could make him. 

‘‘ I’d like to know what I’ve done, that ye should 
use me this way ? ” Wheeler exclaimed, in a 
whining tone. 

‘^We’s af eared you might do some damage, a- 
snoring so, and thought if you was tied up good 
and strong it would at least keep your legs and 
arms from falling off,” drawled Si. And although 
the man whined, and even ventured to use a few- 
cautious expletives, the defenders of the cabin paid 
no further attention to him for the time. ^ Matters 
of greater importance claimed their attention. 

“ Now comes the t-t-tug of war,” stammered Lem,' 
after he had taken another survey of the forest from 
Si’s lookout. 

‘‘ Do you think they are going to make another 
attack, Lemuel?” Mrs, Fowler asked, her anxiety 
concealed under a calm voice and placid face. 

I haven’t any doubt of it, marm. But they 
c-c-count on help from the inside, that they won’t 
g-g-get. We have got a big f-f -fight on our hands, 
though.” 

“ And we can’t hold out alius, Lemuel. Had you 
thought of that ? 

I’ve thought all r-r-round the question; but it 
don’t d-d-do any good to think. We can only . 
k-k-keep as cool as we can and f-f -fight.” I 

While speaking the youth was by no means idle. ^ 
He tried the brace against the door to see that it 
was secure. Then he examined all the guns, re- 
priming those that needed it. 

The moon was up, and when not covered by filmy 
clouds shed a silvery glamor over the clearing, ren- 


THE STRANGER. 


65 


dering the cabin only too conspicuous to the watch- 
ful eyes in the forest. However, the light was un- 
favorable for strategy on the part of the Indians. 
If one so much as stepped from the shadows of the 
woods, he became a fair target for the rifles in the 
cabin ; and the boy defenders had already given 
good evidence of their skill. 

What Si had seen to prompt the action they had 
taken in making Solomon Wheeler a prisoner was 
the cautious appearance of several redskins on the 
edge of the clearing, who began to skulk along 
within the shadows in a stealthy and somewhat 
mysterious manner. Lem had told him to announce 
the first hostile sign observed, and that their guest 
must be made secure before any attack was made, 
for he had reason to believe Wheeler was acting 
under instructions from the enemy, and that noth- 
ing but treachery could be expected from him. 

When Lem returned to the lookout he saw that 
the Indians were still maneuvering in the singular 
manner described. They had crept along a consid- 
erable distance from their original position, and oc- 
casionally halted and held up their hands as though 
trying to detect raindrops. Of course this was not 
their purpose, however, for there was not the slight- 
est indication of rain, nor had there been since the 
previous evening. In fact, for mafiy days, in spite 
of occasional thunder-clouds along the horizon, and 
that oppressiveness of atmosphere which usually 
precedes summer showers, not a drop of rain had 
fallen. 

The weather had been very warm, and a dry 
southerly wind had blown almost constantly. Since 
sunset of the evening of which I am writing there 
was only a light, gusty breeze that occasionally died 
out altogether. 

can’t make out what they’re up to,” said Si, 
after half an hour had elapsed without any change 
in the movements of the enemy. 


66 


THE STRANGEH. 


guess they're trying to find a place where they 
can creep up to the house without being seen,” sug- 
gested Rube, who had been observing them closely 
while the older boys were engaged in other prepa- 
rations. 

•'There are more shadows on the side they 
s-s-started from than anywhere else,” said Lem. 

" They can’t get very nigh on either side without 
being seen, and if they’ve got eyes they can see it as 
well as we can. There’s a strip of moonlight more’n 
fifty yards wide that they’ve got to cross, and we 
have a good chance to pepper them at short range.” 

This was Si’s reasoning, and when his slow mind 
set to work on a problem he was wont never to let 
go until it was solved. 

" There ! Look at ’em now,” Rube suddenly ex- 
claimed. The other boys were already looking. 
The Indians had come to a halt, held up their hands 
as before, looking up at the clouds which were just 
then fioating across the moon’s disk, and apparently 
exchanging comments and suggestions of a most 
animated nature. Just then a brisk gust swept 
across the clearing with a subdued murmur as it 
passed the angles of the cabin. At the same mo- 
ment the Indians they were watching abruptly dis- 
appeared in the forest. 

"Now we shall s-s-soon know what they’re up 
to.” 

"I’ll bet they’re going to make a rush for the 
house,” said Rube. 

" And I’ll bet them redskins ain’t all such big fools 
as Rube takes ’em for,” drawled Si. And this latter 
' estimate was soon proven correct.. 

First, an Indian appeared with his arms full of 
the dry underwood with which the ground was 
plentifully strewn in the forest. Then a half-dozen 
others ran out similarly laden. All dashed rapidly 
toward the cabin, as far as they could without com- 
ing out into the moonlight, which brought them with- 


MU STRANGER. 


67 


in a little more than one hundred yards of the dwell- 
ing. All flung down their armfuls of dead limbs in a 
heap, which, when the last load was deposited, 
rose nearly flve feet in height. Thus, when they 
retreated, they did so almost completely sheltered 
by the pile of dry brush. 

^‘It is about time for us to do some shooting,” 
said Si, with a grimness that betokened a solution 
of the redskins’ mysterious preparations. 

‘‘You think they m-m-mean to build a fl-fl-fire?” 

“ Yes, and a rousing big one.” 

“Still, I don’t s-s-see why they spent so much 
time m-m-making up their minds where to start 
it.” 

“I’m ahead of you, this time, Lem, if I am 
slow.” Si thrust the muzzle of his gun through 
the loophole as he spoke, and patiently waited for 
the enemy to reappear. 

But the shadows and the intervening brush heap 
this time shielded the Indians so effectually that the 
first sign of their return visible to the watchers was 
the sudden flinging on to the pile of combustibles 
of armful after armful of additional fuel. 

Si fired first, and Lem and Rube followed closely. 
The guns were given , to Sue for reloading. Rube 
helping. Just then another of those fitful wind 
gusts swept across the clearing, this one somewhat 
stronger than those preceding. 

“ The wind blows pretty straight from that brush 
heap towards us — don’t you think so, Lem ? ” Si 
deliberately observed. 

But the hint was not needed by the elder brother. 
The truth had flashed upon him a moment before. 
And, though the boys fired again and again toward 
the brush heap, it was but a waste of powder. The 
pile grew higher and higher, and larger and larger. 
How many were engaged in the task of collecting 
and heaping up the great mass of fuel the boys 
could not see. 


08 


THE STRANGER. 


If we could only have had a sh-sh-shower to- 
day ! ” was the thought uttered by Lem, and echoed 
by all the anxious inmates of the cabin, for by this 
time Mrs. Fowler and Sue were apprised of the 
danger. 

“ They’re lighting the heap ! ” Rube announced. 
The young defenders saw a faint red glimmer, tlieii 
a larger blaze, then a great tongue of flame that 
sent a red flash across the clearing. The combus- 
tibles were dry as tinder, and the entire heap quick- 
ly became a mass of flame, fanned by the rising 
wind. 

Then it was shown why the Indians maneuvered 
so long before starting the fire — it was to ascertain 
the exact direction in which the fitful wind was 
blowing. 

The air was quickly filled with blazing brands, 
Avhich, borne by the wind, fell on roofs and sides 
of house and shed in a perfect rain of fire. 


CHAPTER VII. 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 

It is no more than right that attention should 
now be turned to the brave young Indian who had 
volunteered to rescue little Davey Fowler from his 
captors. 

After parting from Si, Winawis exerted himself 
in the manner already described, to divert the pur- 
suit from the white youth. Having done all in his 
power in this direction, though ignorant of the 
issue of his efforts, the young Nipmuck speedily 
found that he had somewhat overdone the matter, 
and that he would be fortunate if he escaped cap- 
ture or injury himself. 

He did not suppose the hostile Indians ’were so 
numerous in the vicinity. The wood seemed liter- 
ally to swarm with them. A half-dozen were in 
full pursuit of the Nipmuck, and as he ran hither 
and thither with the silence of a shadow, he saw 
painted savages start up on every side, and heard 
more than one rifle crack in uncomfortable prox- 
imity. 

Then it was that Winawis proved his own supe- 
rior fleetness and endurance. Darting along forest 
paths, leaping over fallen trees, turning this way 
or that as he became aware that there were ene- 
mies before as well as behind him, he kept on for 
several moments without an instant’s halt. He 
reached a point where the ground sloped rapidly 
to the banks of a small, crooked stream which, a 
few miles below, emptied into the beautiful Housa- 
tonic. 

By this time a greater part of his pursuers bad 


70 WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 

been thrown off the track and had abandoned the 
chase. Two or three only persisted. They were 
among the most fleet of foot and kept directly in 
his rear, evidently determined to tire him out and 
force him to turn at bay, in the hope of obtaining 
a fair shot at him. 

Wiiiawis was annoyed at being forced to travel 
so far away from the trail of Davey’s captor. 
Every yard of distance and moment of delay less- 
ened the chances of success, and he remembered his 
promise to Si to restore the captive child safely be- 
fore the setting of another sun. Hence he resolved 
to continue his flight but a short distance further. 

As he neared the small stream alluded to he pur- 
posely allowed his pursuers to gain on him. They 
got so near that he caught glimpses of them flitting 
cautiously behind the trunks of trees. 

The banks of the stream at that point sloped 
rafcher abruptly, and the growth covering them was 
smaller and denser than the forest trees, partaking 
more of the quality of shrubbery. 

Into the midst of this growtli Winawis plunged, 
making considerable noise in doing so. Keaching 
the brink of the stream, he stooped suddenly, picked 
up a stone of half his own v/ eight and hurled it 
with a loud splash into the water. At the same 
time he bent his lithe body and sped noiselessy 
along the river bank until he heard the approach 
of his pursuers, when he flung himself down in the 
midst of a dense clump of shrubbery and lay there 
without stirring a muscle and scarcely venturing t(^ 
breathe. His foes came crashing through the 
hushes, one of them passing almost within reach of 
his outstretched arm. The)?' had heard the spins] i 
of the stone striking in the water, and supposed it 
to be Winawis who had leaped into the stream 
The latter was at that point narrow and deep, and 
they looked up and down the curving brook for 
some sign of the fugitive. 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 


71 


Winawis feared — even expected — them to use the 
precaution of looking for his trail before leaping to 
the conclusion that he had crossed the brook. But, 
while the readers of histories and romances of Indian 
warfare have been led to believe the race the most 
crafty and cautious in the world, tliey have not, 
per ha ps, stopped to consider that there is such a 
thing as individuality, even among Indians. Some 
are much more observant than others, and some, 
beside the training of the powers of observation 
which their wild life makes necessary, possess in 
addition more than the ordinary measure of natural 
intelligence. In other words, there are Indians who 
are “smart ” and Indians who are a little dull, with 
all grades between. 

The pursuers of Winawis were all young men, 
and ordinary specimens of their race. 

The fact that their foe was a red man made them 
the more malignant toward him, and doubly anxious 
to overtake him. They thought they heard him 
plunge into the stream, and with scarce a moment’s 
hesitation they followed suit. 

As soon as Winawis heard his pursuers in the 
stream he sprang to his feet and hastened up the 
steep bank. He knew he had not a moment to lose, 
for his foes would look for his trail on the opposite 
side of the stream, and, failing to find it, would 
suspect the ruse and come back with greater fury. 

Beaching a point where the stream became broad 
and shallow, the young Nipmuck leaped into it 
and waded up the current for a short distance, until 
he came to a favorable spot for carrying out another 
simple yet clever stratagem for baffling pursuit. 

Several oaks of considerable size grew near the 
bank, and their branches trailed in the water, which 
rippled and murmured musically under them. To 
draw himself up by one of these branches and thence 
to gain the tree itself and by other branches to reach 
another tree yet further f r‘^m the stream and thence 


72 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 


regain terra firma, was almost as easily and quickly 
done as though he had stepped directly from the 
water to the bank. But by this method his tracks 
could not be found within twenty feet of the brink 
of the stream, which, of course, would render them 
very hard to find. In fact, to look for them would 
be like hunting for a needle in a haystack.” 

All these maneuvers occupied but a few minutes 
of time, and Winawis felt assured that he would 
have no further trouble with his late pursuers. 

Upon alighting from the tree he paused to see 
what direction to take to return to the trail of 
Davey’s captor at the point where he had left it. He 
had soon set himself right on that score, when he 
heard stealthy footsteps close at hand."’ He barely 
had time to conceal himself behind the tree from 
which he had descended when the footsteps drew 
nearer, and he heard the sound of a voice that sent 
an eager gleam into his keen black eyes. It was the 
voice of little Davey Fowler, speaking in a pleading 
tone. 

‘Hf you are a dood white man, why don’t you 
take me home ? ” 

Because the Injuns are close at our heels,” said 
the good white man, in a snarling voice, which was 
not at all like the plausible tones he had first em- 
ployed. 

“You said you was going to take me to my pa,” 
persisted Davey, who, like his elder brothers, did not 
lack backwoods “grit.” 

.. ^ ^ you’ll only stop your noise. But 

It you keep your everlasting tongue agoin’ I’ll leave 
Injuns eat ye up ! ” 

good white man was making his way toward 
ti^ str^m, with the child trudging wearily at his 

tuv. the water’s edge he suddenly lifted 

the boy to his shoulder. 

Now^ if ye holler. I’ll pitch ye into the brook 


WINA^^^S ON THE TRAIL. Y3 

head fust ! ’’ was the man’s threat, as he began to 
ford the stream. 

All of Avhich Winawis saw and heard, following 
stealthily and closely behind. 

Ever wary and ever thoughtful, Winawis paused 
close to the bank of the stream and permitted the 
good white man to cross with his captive unmo- 
lested. 

To attack the man in or near the water, the Indian 
reasoned, would probably result in the child being 
thrown into the current, and perhaps drowned while 
the foes were engaged in the hand-to-hand struggle 
which would ensue. 

Crouching in the shrubbery, Winawis waited 
until the man and child disappeared on the opposite 
side. Then he rapidly crossed, found the trail, and 
owing to the necessarily slow pace of those in ad- 
vance, soon came up with them. 

The good white man had again put the child on 
his feet. The young Nipmuck unslung his bow, 
and fitted an arrow to the string. The white man 
was moving so slowly that it would have been an 
easy matter for the Indian to transfix his foe with 
his unerring aim. He drew the arrow to the head, 
and held it here with a strength of arm which was 
almost marvelous, for Winawis used a bow that few 
could bend. 

In this position he uttered a low, gruff ejacula- 
tion that caused his foe to wheel abruptly. Davey 
faced about also, and joyfully cried, “Nipinut! 
Nipmut ! ” and started to run toward him. The cap- 
tor recoiled, half raised his gun, grew white as a 
sheet as he saw that he would be pierced by an 
arrow before he could so much as cock his 
own weapon, and then quickly dropped the latter 
and flung up his arms. ‘‘Come here, pale 
coward 1 ” Winawis commanded, without moving a 
muscle. 

The white man advanced, showing his teeth in 


74 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 


tliat grimace which Davey had at first mistaken 
for a pleasant smile. 

You’ll make a mistake if you shoot me, redskin. 
I’m just as much agin the settlers as you be, if my 
skin is white,” said the man, supposing at first that 
the threatening Indian was hostile to the whites. 

‘‘The paleface makes a mistake,” replied Wina- 
wis, without altering his aim. 

The white man realized that he had blundered, 
and hastily tried to amend the same. 

“I was taking the young one to his father. 
S’cuse me for thinkin’ you was one of them var- 
mints that’re murderin’ and burnin’ settlers in the 
valley ! I spoke that way just to throw you off 
your guard, hopin’ to get away from you, not 
noticin’ that ye didn't have war paint on. If you’s 
a friend to this young one then you’s a friend to me, 
for he’ll tell you I was takin’ him to his pa, wasn’t 
I, Davey ? I’m a good white man, ain’t I ? ” 

The speaker bent upon the child one of those 
grimaces which had first deceived. But the face 
and smiles had become, to the sensitive child, the 
most horrifying sight in the world ; with a scream of 
terror Davey scrambled through the tangle of un- 
dergrowth and was soon clinging to the leggings of 
his red friend. 

Winawis lowered his weapon and pointed to the 
northward with stern gesture. 

“ Let the pale coward run faster than he ever ran 
before, for an arrow will start before his heart has 
beat a score of times.” 

The good white man did not pause to count his 
heart beats, for twenty seconds is a terribly brief s])ace 
of time when it may prove the earthly limit of life. 
He sprang past the young Indian, caught his foot in 
the undergrowth and fell headlong, was up again 
in a twinkling, and away into the sheltering wood. 
Even then he heard the twang of Winawis’ bow- 
string, felt something like a breath fan his cheek 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 75 

and saw the arrow quivering in the trunk of a tree 
a dozen paces in advance of liim. 

It was no wonder that a chill struck his heart, 
while he redoubled his already frantic efforts to 
escape, for he did not know that it was design, in- 
stead of his own good fortune, that caused the 
missile to pass so close to his face, and yet do him 
no injury. For Christian teachings had made the 
young iShpmuck more merciful than were many be- 
longing to the white race. Winawis knew that 
the undertaking of restoring Davey to his home was 
as yet only half accomplished. They were several 
miles distant from the cabin, and the w'oods were 
full of hostile Indians. In truth, the young Ishp- 
muck was aware of a fact of which the inmates of 
the Fowler cabin were ignorant. A large party of 
Indians with French leaders were encamped in the 
valley of the Housatonic less than three miles from 
the home in which we have so mucii interest. They 
had burned several settlers’ cabins in their cour&e, 
and had taken a number of prisoners. Other set- 
tlers were fleeing towards Pontoosuc, having been 
warned of the approach of the hostiles. 

The Fowlers, also, might have been warned, but 
for the strange perversity of Mr. Fowler himself. 
Winawis had been on his way to aid them, in fact, 
when he fell in with the captor of Davey, and after- 
ward with Si Fowler, as he has been described. 

The Nipmuck lifted the child in his arms and be- 
gan working his way back toward the clearing. 

Davey clasped his own arms around the young 
Indian’s neck, and with his rosy little face close to 
the swarthy one of his rescuer, told, in his childish 
way, the story of his abduction. And with a strnii‘:e 
affection growing stronger in the red youth’s heart, 
Winawis held him more closely with his strong arm, 
and gave such whispered assurances of protection 
that the little fellow’s head drooped upon the Indi- 
an’s shoulder and the blue eyes closed in sleep. 


76 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 


Knowing that his young charge was asleep, Win- 
awis stepped yet more softly and took extra care 
that no twig should spring back and awaken the 
child. 

His progress was so slow that night had fallen 
long before the edge of the clearing was reached. 

The Indian silently crossed the open strip and en- 
tered the cornfield. There he broke down a quantity 
of corn with one hand, and spread the stalks so as 
to make a bed between the rows. Not till then did 
he relieve his aching arm, and gently lay Davey 
upon the rude couch. The child did not even rouse. 

Winawis had heard several shots from the direc- 
tion of the clearing, and was eager to ascertain the 
condition of the cabin and its defenders. But he 
dared not leave Davey to go forward and recon- 
noiter, and he had not the heart to awaken him 
then. 

But his curiosity and interest were soon to be 
raised to a point where they could not be controlled. 

He heard firing from the direction of the cabin. 
Then, from beyond or near it, rose a red glow that 
indicated the presence of flames leaping skyward. 

Then the Indian bent over his sleeping charge and 
said : 

‘‘My little brother must awake now and come.” 

Davey was on his feet in an instant, refreshed by 
his long nap. 

“ Doin’ to take Davey home now ? ” he asked. 

“ Davey must be patient and come with Nipmuck, 
and let his tongue be silent.” 

He bent to take the boy in his arms again, but 
hearing footsteps close at hand, wheeled suddenly 
instead and in a twinkling had sent an arrow clip- 
ping through the corn. 

That the missile found a victim was evidenced by 
a savage whoop of pain. The cry served as a signal 
also, and was answered by other whoops — more 
t^han a dozen in all — from every side. 


WlNAWiS ON THE TRAIL. 


77 


Brave little Davey restrained the scream of terror 
that rose to his lips, for he knew that it would only 
serve to tell their foes where he was. He shrank 
close to his companion, who stood over him with 
another arrow ready and every sense alert. 

Only for an instant did he stand thus. He heai'd 
the swift approach of foes, and realized that discov- 
ery was inevitable. Again he lifted bis charge, a}id 
with swift, silent leaps regained the shelter of the 
w(^od. In another moment Davey was lifted to the 
lower branches of a small tree with dense foliage. 

“Climb higher — cling — and wait for Winawis!” 
was the Nipmuck’s injunction. 

With unquestioning trust Davey obeyed. 

If: :i: * * * 

“ Looks as if they had us now, spite of any- 
thing,” exclaimed Si Fowler, while Lem and Eube 
gazed out in consternation across the fire-lit clear- 
ing. 

“ What now, boys ?” said Mrs. Fowler, coming 
anxiously toward them., 

“ They’re t-t-trying to burn us out,” said Lem, 
“and I’m af eared they’ll make out ! If it hadn’t 
been f-f-father’s n-n-notion we might be nearer the 
s-s-spring, and then we w^ould have a chance to put 
out a f-f-fire.” 

Even in their present peril the older son could not 
forget that all their misfortunes were due to his 
father’s perversity. 

“ He thought Eube and I wouldn’t ever get our 
growth if w'e didn’t have to lug water half a mile,” 
drawled Si. 

“ Perhaps the house won’t ketch, after all,” said 
Eube, who was anxiously watching the smoke and 
cinders which fairly enveloped the dwelling. 

As the moments passed, and there was no sign 
of the roof of either cabin or shed having ignited, 
the others began to entertain the same hope. For 
fire is a very perverse element, and will sometimes 


WiNAWlS ON THE THAIL. 


^8 

refuse to burn even when the most suitable fuel is 
offered it. But presently a cry from Si told the 
story. The roof of the shed had caught. 

'‘We must p-p put it out,” said Lem, with his 

usual prompt determination. 

" We've only two pails of water/ declared Sue. 
"And we can’t spare them. But there’s m-m- 
more’n one w-way.” , 

Lem put on his hat and seized two birch brooms, 
which had been made only a day or two before and 
were, therefore, perfectly green. He dipped the 
brush-ends in the water bucket and hurried out 
into the shed. 

" L-l-load and f-f -fire at the redskins fast as you 
can,” he called back through the opening. 

There were grave faces in the cabin as they heard 
Lem undo the fastenings of the shed door, and, a 
moment after, clambering upon the roof. They 
knew that he was taking a great risk, for in the 
light of the bonfire he would make a conspicuous 
target for the foe. 

But with enough to do, their sufferings for his 
sake were not so great as they would have been had 
they been obliged to await the issue in inactive sus- 
pense. 

Mrs. Fowler and Sue rapidly loaded the guns, 
while Eube and Si discharged them in the direction 
of the flitting forms which they occasionally saw 
beyond the blazing brush heap. 

Whether any of these shots were effective or not 
they could not tell, for the Indians kept up an 
incessant yelling from the moment of lighting the 
fire. They kept running to and fro also, adding a 
fresh supply of fuel to the heap. But, despite their 
diligence, the dry brush was consumed faster than 
they could gather and throw it on, for of course 
they had already collected all that lay close at hand, 
and every armful now obtained had to be gathered 
farther and farther away from the blazing pile. 


WlNAWIS ON THE TRAIL. tO 

“I don’t believe they have seen Lem yet,” said 
Rube as he handed a smoking gun to Sue. 

‘‘God grant that they won’t notice him at all,” 
was Mrs. Fowler’s fervent response. 

It seemed as if the utterance of a hope was sure 
to blast it, for at that moment a louder whoop from 
the Indians indicated that they had made the dread- 
ed discovery. Several scatterring shots from the 
forest followed, and Lem could be heard running 
rapidly across the nearly flat roof of the shed. A 
moment later he appeared at the opening, and tossed 
the brooms into the room. The instant he appeared 
they saw blood on his cheek. 

“A bullet cl-cl-clipped off apiece of my left ear,” 
he declared. “ I could spare it w-w-well enough, 
though,” he added, for nature had indeed been 
rather liberal with him in that respect. 

“ Rather a close shave, Lem,” drawled Si. 

“ The fire is out, anyway,” said the elder brother, 
wiping the blood and perspiration from his face. 

“A w-w-wet broom is worth a barrel of 
w-w water for that business. I could brush off the 
brands as f f-fast as they feU, and beat out every 
speck of blaze that started afore it got a good hold.” 

“You don’t think the danger from fire is over, do 
you ? ” his mother asked. 

“ Pretty nigh. There ain’t many b-b-brands f-f-fly- 
ing now, and the redskins appear to be getting 
tired of lugging brush. I’ll c-c-creep out again 
pretty s-s-soon and see how things 1-1-look.” 

“ It wouldn’t be a bad idea to send our lodger up 
on the roof and set him to brushing off sparks,” sug- 
gested Si. 

“ Just what I was thinking. Mabbe the Injuns 
w-w- wouldn’t fire at h-h-him.” 

“ Good way to make him pay for the whiskey he 
drinks,” said Rube. 

Solomon Wheeler during all these proceedings 
had maintained absolute silence. But now he strug- 


80 WINAWiS ON THE TRAIL. 

gled to a sitting posture and cast a woeful glance 
at his captors. 

I wisht ye’d loosen that ’ere cord on my legs a 
leetle grain,” he said with a whine. 

‘‘Wh-wh-what for?” demanded Lem, looking 
grimly down at him. 

It’s a hurtin’ of me, that’s why. There’s no call 
for ye to tie me up so. Ye can’t say I’ve done the 
leastest thing out o’ the way, and as for your 
s’picions, they’re onjust and cruel.” 

“The safest way is the b-b-best way, Mr. 
Wheeler.” 

“If ye’d ontie me, and give me a gun, I could 
help ye amazin’. I’d like nothin’ better than to 
shoot some of theni varmints and avenge the dear 
’uns ! ” 

“Kevenge is a w-w- wicked feeling to harbor 
against a fellow-critter,” declared Lem, so solemnly 
that the treacherous stranger was silenced. 

“Them redskins are goin’ to make things warm 
for us pretty soon, or J miss my guess ! ” exclaimed 
Si, with more alarm than he often displayed. 

Fully a score of warriors had appeared in the 
vicinity of the fire, and even as Si spoke they started 
at a run toward the cabin, yelling furiously, and 
brandishing their tomahawks in a most belligerent 
manner. 

“ G-g-give ’em a v-v- volley, quick ! ” stammered 
Lem. 

Not only the boys, but the mother and sister 
obeyed this command, bringing all the guns in the 
house into requisition. For, like most frontier 
homes, the dwelling of the Fowlers was a private 
arsenal in the number of weapons of various sorts 
which had been collected. In fact the supply of 
guns and pistols was Mr. Fowler’s only point of 
liberality. He hardly ever returned from one of 
his protracted and mysterious hunting and fishing 
expeditions without bringing one or more new 


WINAWIS ON THE TRAIL. 81 

weapons, which he professed to have found in the 
woods.” 

‘‘Hunters and Injuns are careless about such 
things,” he would sometimes remark when surprise 
was expressed at the frequency of his “finds.” 
Upon one occasion he carried a number of guns 
away, and if his word is to be taken, sold them at 
Pontoosuc. 

Five rifles, discharged simultaneously from the 
cabin, was too formidable a foe to be faced. Two 
of the Indians fell, and the others only paused long 
enough to pick up the unfortunates. The boy de- 
fenders sent two or three pistol-shots after them, to 
add to their panic. A moment later the clearing 
was as deserted and silent as though there were not 
a foe within fifty miles. 

“They w-w- won’t try that caper again till the 
moon g-g-goes down,” declared Lem, while they all 
set to work reloading. 

“ The moon won’t help us much longer,” said Si, 
an hour later, as he saw that more than half the 
space between cabin and forest was darkened by the 
lengthening shadows. 

All realized that the unequal contest was approach- 
ing a crisis. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 

“Climb higher and cling ! ” v/as the command of 
Winawis, and from no other would it have been 
obeyed so implicitly, without remonstrance, by little 
Davey. So perfect was the child’s confidence in the 
young Indian that had the latter told him to leap 
into the Housatonic he would certainly have done 
so, believing that his red friend would find a way to 
save him. 

The tree in which the child had been deposited 
was small, and the branches grew so thickly that 
Davey found it easy to clamber up among them. Of 
course it was intensely dark around him, and more 
perfect concealment could not have been found. 

Davey did not realize his danger sufficiently to 
make him afraid. “The dark” was more fearful 
to him than the Indians with whom the forest 
swarmed. Indeed, he would much rather have 
fallen into the hands of a dozen redskins than to be 
recaptured by the person calling himself a good 
white man. The horrible smirk of the latter would 
linger in the boy’s memory like a nightmare, as 
long as he lived. 

He saw his red friend dart away into the wood, 
and heard savage yells from pursuers. He saw 
several dark forms flit along under the tree ; one 
paused directly under him, and thinking it might 
be Winawis come back, Davey began to descend. 
In doing so a twig was broken off and fell upon the 
tufted head underneath, causing the owner to up- 
turn his dark face and strive to pierce the foliage 
with his vision. Then Davey saw that it was not 


WHAT DATEY OVERHEARt). 


83 


the Nipmuck, and he hastily scrambled upward 
again, making no small amount of noise in doing 
so. His very lack of ordinary care saved him, for 
the redskin supposed it was some animal among 
the branches, and for his own safety lost no time 
in getting out of the way. 

The moments dragged slowly to little Davey. To 
keep listening, listening, and straining his eyes, was 
so tiresome and such a sleepy task withal that his 
child nature succumbed. His listening ears were 
filled with a strange whirring sound, and presently 
the good white man grinned into his face, and 
suddenly seizing him, tossed him high in the air. 
Then down, down he came, and struck with a 
thump that awakened him from the doze into 
which he had fallen. And it was not all a dream — 
the falling part w as real, for he had tumbled from 
his perch in the tree and lay on the ground at its 
base, while an aching spot on his head indicated 
that he had added another of those characteristic 
mishaps of childhood — a resounding bump. 

He was frightened and hurt, and so thoroughly 
miserable, with the awful darkness all around him 
and the pokerish whispering of the wind in the 
branches overhead, that it was only by a most he- 
roic effort that he kept from crying. The tears 
came indeed, but not a sound passed his firmly- 
compressed lips. 

His first impulse was to try and regain his place 
of concealment. But, finding the lowest branches 
were beyond his reach, he gave up the attempt, 
and a moment after his attention was taken by the 
sound of voices so close at hand that he started to 
run away. Then he received another fall and a 
stinging scratch across his face that started the 
blood. Still he did not cry out. With a sort of de- 
fiance of misfortune he stood still with his back 
braced firmly against the tree from which he had 
fallen. 


84 


WHAT HAVEY OVERHEARD. 


He stood thus for what seemed like a long time, 
and heard those voices all the while, their position 
remaining exactly the same. This was too much 
for his curiosity, and he began cautiously to work 
his way, on hands and knees, toward them. He 
soon perceived the glimmer of a light and a 
moment after was gazing with wide, wondering 
eyes, through a mass of interlacing shrubbery 
upon a small camp fire, with a white man sitting 
upon opposite sides of it, and one of them toasting 
a piece of meat on the end of a spit over the 
smokeless blaze. 

Only one thing restrained Davey from springing 
forward and crying ‘'Papa The person on the 
opposite side of the fire was leaning forward, his 
elbows on his knees and chin resting in his hands, 
and while Josiah Fowler talked this other kept 
showing more and more of his teeth after a fashion 
that Davey had seen only one person display — the 
good white man. And this was enough to make 
Davey crouch down behind the screening bushes 
and almost hold his breath, while he heard every 
word that passed between the two men. 

“No, it doesn’t pay,’’ Mr. Fowler was saying, as 
he slowly turned the spit, and watched the meat as 
it gradually became of a savory brown. “If I had 
known what it was goin’ to lead to I shouldn’t have 
follered it. For a single man like you it’s different. 
A man don’t like to see his family abused, or to 
think maybe they’ll all be butchered by his friends. 
If a man has a family that ain’t over particular — 
that’s willin’ to f oiler him, and that won’t set up to 
do as they’re a mind to agin’ him, that is different. 
But my family ain’t that kind. Sometimes I don’t 
care if the Injuns do clean ’em out. They had no 
need to be so confounded stubborn ? ” 

“You air rather of a sot man yourself when you 
be sot, ain’t ye ? ” the other ventured, his habitual 
grin broadening. 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


85 


‘‘I’ve a right to be. But who evpr heard of a 
man’s boys setting themselves up n nd telling him 
what they will do and what they won’t ! ” 

“ Not many would darester if they had fathers 
like me.” 

This was savagely spoken, although the good 
white man still, to Davey’s eyes, appeared to be 
smiling. Of all malignant beings on the face of the 
earth the man who smiles while uttering savage 
threats and thinking of cruel deeds is the most to be 
feared. 

“ When boys get grown up as big or bigger than 
you are yourself it isn’t so easy keeping ’em under,” 
said Mr. Fowler. 

“That’s because ye don’t begin right with ’em. 
I’d like to see the boy that would dare stand out 
agin’ my father ! I jest started out for to do it once. 
That’s what I got for it. ” 

The good white man bent forward, pulled down 
the collar of his shirt, and even from where Davey 
crouched he could see a long, livid scar, which 
looked as though the flesh had at some time been 
cut to the bone with a blunt instrument. 

‘ ‘ Think I’d stand out after that ? ” asked the 
man. 

“I don’t know,” Fowler answered. “I never 
struck my boys, and never really wanted to till last 
night and night afore.” 

“ I was eighteen when I got that clip with a hick- 
ory stick,” the good white man went on, resurniDg 
his original posture and grinning at the Are. 

“ My Lemuel is a little more than that,” said Mr. 
Fowler. 

“ Take a harder clip to fetch him to terms, then. 
Discipline is what boys need. And some gals need 
it too. Now, if I was in your boots I’d go down to 
that ’ere cabin of yourn and tell ’em it was best for 
’em to come along with you. And the fust one as 
sot out to oppose ye I’d lay ’em out with some sich 


86 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


a cut as mine was. I didn’t know nothin’ after it 
for nigh onter two days. But when I got ’round 
agin’ I was cured of standin out agin the old man.” 

Mr. Fowler plucked some broad maple leaves from 
an overhanging branch and spread them on the 
ground. Upon the tablecloth thus improvised he 
placed the roasted meat, which Davey now saw was 
a dressed partridge, and very plump and tempting 
it looked. With a large clasp-knife the wild fowl 
was divided, and then the good white man reached 
forward and greedily seized his share. Davey shud- 
dered as he saw him tear the tender flesh from the 
bones of the fowl with those constantly visible 
teeth. 

‘‘ I have a mind to try your plan, Silas,” said Mr. 
Fowler after a long period of silence. 

‘‘Ye won’t have to hit more’n the oldest one a 
clip,” observed the other as he vigorously worked 
his large jaws. 

A moment before the utterance of these last 
quoted remarks Davey’ s gaze wandered to the oppo- 
site side of the small opening, and there he beheld 
the face of Winawis, the young Mpmuck, also 
watching and listening. 

********* 

The moon sunk behind the wood and darkness 
settled upon the clearing to add to the danger with 
which the cabin and its young defenders were 
threatened. 

It is under such conditions as these that one may 
realize that it takes sixty very long minutes to make 
an hour. Not one of the boys dared for a moment 
to relax his vigilance now. A faint glow still 
marked the spot where the Indians had built the 
bonfire, while the forest beyond looked black as 
midnight, and to have discerned the form of a red- 
skin outlined against such a dark background would 
have been next to impossible. 

But the longest hours have to end some time, and 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


87 


SO did these, one after another, until a joyful ex- 
clamation from Rube broke a protracted period of 
silence. 

‘ ^ I b’lieve it’s growin’ light. ” 

‘‘And no Injuns yet,” said Sue, who had done as 
good sentinel duty during those hours of suspense 
as had her brothers. 

The sky to the eastward was unmistakably bright- 
ening. The glow of the fire had died out. A more 
absolute stillness than that which now reigned 
could not be conceived. 

“I d-d-don’t understand it,” said Lem, after tak- 
ing an observation on each of the four sides of the 
cabin. 

“Looks as if the redskins suspected we were 
stronger here than they s’posed at fust, and they’d 
giv^en up the battle,” observed Si. 

‘ ‘ That isn’t very likely. If they g-g-give up every 
time they found a p-p-plucky set of settlers they 
wouldn’t do much d-d-damage. They are generally 
shy of b-b-bullets, and when they find they can’t 
have things their own way they try s-s-strategy. 
They’re a c-c-c-cowardly lot, but they manage to 
clean out some pretty strong settlements when they 
b-b-begin.” 

“ I don’t believe they’ve given up yet,” declared 
Sue. “Like enough we bein’ here sort of by our- 
selves there wan’t many of ’em left to do the work. 
Most of ’em are like to have gone further, to attack 
a settlement or where the white folks are more 
plenty.” 

“You think enough are 1-1-left to hang round and 
w-w- watch for a chance to p-p-pick us off if we 
stir ? ” 

“ I’m af eared so.” 

“They think they’ll be sure of us by waitin’ till 
we’re out of food and water,” said Si, and this sug- 
gestion did not tend to raise their spirits. 

“We could hold out a day or two as far as water 


88 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


is concerned,’’ said Sue with a glance at the buckets 
which were stiU nearly full. 

You f-f -forget the c-c-cow.” 

That’s so. She does have to drink, doesn’t 
she.” 

If it comes to the w-w- worst we would kill her. 
Then we should have enough to eat f-f -for a while. ” 

Fresh meat wouldn’t keep a great while this 
weather,” drawled Si, who seem to be in a mood for 
making depressing suggestions. 

‘‘Without salt, that’s a fact,” said Sue. “But 
we’ve got a pretty good lot of salt, and could pickle 
a good, big lump of meat with it, if it came to that. 
But I hope we won’t have to kill the cow. We’ve 
got enough to eat ’thout her, such as ’tis.” 

“ And if we can git water to make brine of, we 
can get water for the cow to drink,” said Rube, who 
could be practical once in awhile. 

And so they discussed ways and means until day 
fairly dawned, and it was noticeable that, in exact 
proportion as daylight increased, so were their 
spirits raised. They were then able to relax their 
vigilance somewhat, and Sue prepared their morn- 
ing meal. 

“ Have to ontie that ’ere man so’t he can eat, I 
s’pose,” was Mrs. Fowler’s ungracious reminder. 

“ Don’t know whether we will or not,” said Si. 

“We’ll see how the v-v-vituals is going to hold 
out afore we throw much on’t away on h-h-him,” 
stammered Lem, which advice was unconcernedly 
heeded by the rest of the family, while Solomon 
Wheeler became more and more uneasy at the 
prospect of receiving slight favor at the hands of his 
hosts. 

“ Hope ye wouldn’t see a man starve !” he ex- 
claimed at length, as no move was made toward 
offering him any breakfast. 

“If you seem to be starvin’ we’ll all look t’other 
way so’s not too see ye,” was the drawling rejoinder 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


89 


of Si which caused a general smile and started 
Solomon’s whine afresh. 

‘‘ Mabby he would like some of the stuff we giv’ 
him when he first come,” suggested Mrs. Fowler, 
who, seeing in tliis man one of the unwholesome 
comrades of her husband, felt rather spiteful toward 
him. 

“1 don’t mind if I do take a lee tie drop,” said 
Wheeler, brightening up. ‘‘ Fact is, there’s a leetle 
pain in my stummick, and suthin’ warmin’ might 
be better for me than hearty vittles, to begin on.” 

He means the catnip tea, doesn’t he, Lem ?” in- 
quired Sue, to which there was a prompt reply in 
the affirmative. 

Wheeler groaned, and anxiously protested that he 
‘^couldn’t abide the yarb nohow.” He was finally 
given a rather sparing quantity of food, but not a 
drop of whiskey was offered him. 

‘‘ The question is, whether it’s safest to k-k-keep 
that man here and f-f-feed him till we’re sure the 
danger is over, or let him go and have another enemy 
to 1-1-1-look out for ? ” said Lemuel, a few hours 
later. 

While this important question was being dis- 
cussed, all were electrified by the announcement 
that two men had appeared on the edge of the 
forest and were advancing unconcernedly toward 
the dwelling. 

‘‘ One of ’em is father,” declared Si, a grim look 
coming into his face. 

‘‘Who’s t’other?’’ Mrs. Fowler inquired. Her 
voice trembled with anxiety, and the look that she 
sent to the faces of her boys showed an inexpressi- 
ble dread of another encounter between them and 
their father. She understood him better than they 
rlid. Perhaps she knew more about his mysterious 
excursions from home than she had yet dared to tell 
them. There is many a brave woman who has 
stood between a husband’s sins and the retribution 


90 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


which his own children might otherwise visit upon 
him. To be the wife of a criminal involves more 
than to be the son or daughter of one, if the wife 
he all that heaven ordained her to be. It is not for 
her to raise a finger to bring punishment upon him. 

‘‘A thin, shanky-built man, t’other one is,” said 
Si, who was watching them closely. 

‘‘Looks pleasant ’nough from here,” said Rube. 
“ He seems to be smiling at a great rate, though he 
ain’t very handsome.” 

“ One thing about it,” said resolute Lem to Solo- 
mon Wheeler, “You’ve got to be kept out of the 
w-w-ay till he is gone.” 

“What can we do with him?” Si came quickly 
forward as he spoke. 

“ P-p-put him out with the c-c-cow. But wait. 
He has got to be m-m-muzzled.” 

To tie something tightly over his mouth to pre- 
vent him from making an outcry was the work of 
a moment. Sue’s strong hands lent ready assis- 
tance. 

“ And if he tries to make a rumpus one of us’ll go 
out and shoot him,” said Si. 

Their unwelcome guest was dragged through the 
opening into the shed, and left to his own reflec- 
tions. This disposal of him had scarcely been made 
before a loud knock sounded on the cabin door, ac- 
companied by the commanding voice of Josiah 
Fowler. 

“ Shall we 1-1-let him in or not ?” asked Lem ap- 
pealing to his mother. 

“Yes, yes — let him in,” was the nervously-spoken 
reply. 

Lem Fowler was never before so tempted to op- 
pose a mandate from his mother, for it was most 
strongly contrary to his judgment to admit, un- 
questioned, one who had certainly given them no 
grounds for trusting at this critical period. 

Then he reflected that perhaps, after all, he had 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


91 


been too hasty in judging his father. He was young 
and impetuous, and years of discontent had preju- 
diced his mind. It is so easy for youth to be mis- 
taken, and in most cases it is so when opposed to 
the experience of age. Lem was a thoughtful youth, 
and all this passed through his mind in the moment 
that he was appearing to undo the fastenings of the 
door. For in reality he had undone none of them 
when he again turned to his mother, and in a low, 
unsteady voice asked : ‘‘ Are you sure its b-b-best 
mam ? Hadn’t we better find out what he w-w- wants 
first ?” 

“ He wants us to go away with him, like enough,” 
was the reply. “ But we ain’t obleeged to go if it 
don’t look to be best. We can tell him no, as we 
did afore, and that’ll be the end on’t. But he may 
say somethin’ that’ll be to our advantage to listen 
to. Your father don’t allers do as he orter, and a 
good many men don’t, but we mustn’t forgit what 
he is to us, and that he may mean well for us arter 
all. Not that I would have you go with the ene- 
mies of the settlers, or do anything wrong to please 
him. But we don’t want to do wrong in tryin’ to 
do right, Lemuel.” 

Lem undid the fastenings while Mrs. Fowler was 
speaking, and as she finished the door swung open 
and Mr. Fowler entered. A glance at his face made 
Lem wish he had not admitted him, but it was too 
late then. Fowler’s companion came in also, and 
bowed and smiled at Mrs. Fowler and Sue with a 
vast display of very prominent teeth. 

“We’ve brought ye amazin’ good news,” said 
this person, seating himself uninvited, and bestow- 
ing a smile on Sue that “made her blood run cold,” 
as she afterward expressed it. 

‘ ‘ The Injins that have been attacking the cabin 
have gone down the river,” said Mr. Fowler, speak- 
ing in a somewhat unsteady voice. Rube recalled 
hearing him use the same unsteady tones upon one 


02 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


or two former occasions when he canie home, as he 
said, ‘'very tired.” At such times, too, he was 
wont to be more than usually taciturn. 

“ Then we won’t have to give up our cabin, arter 
all; shall we, Josiah?” exclaimed Mrs. Fowler, 
placing a hard-worked hand on her husband’s arm. 

“ All the more reason for you to get aw^ay, now 
you have a chance,” he replied. “ I didn’t say the 
danger was over, did I ?” he continued impatiently. 
“ It’s absurd for you to stay here when everybody 
else is fleeiiT to the settlements. You w^as lucky 
to drive off that lot, but there’s more cornin’, and 
they won’t leave a cabin along the valley, exceptin’ 
in one or two big settlements. Pontoosuc ain’t 
safe even.” 

“ Where would you have us go ?” 

“ I’d have you go with me. I can take you where 
you’ll be safe. But if you go to startin’ off alone 
you’ll git into trouble. ” 

Mr. Fowler avoided meeting tho gaze of either 
Lem or Si while speaking. But his companion, 
with a constantly broadening smile, looked from 
one to the other, and occasionally bestowed upon 
them a sly sort of wink, as though there was some 
Joke a-foot which he and they w^ere bound to enjoy 
by and by. As for Sue, she came in for more of 
this man’s hideous smiles than all the others to- 
gether. 

“ I don’t see how you can git around so, Josiah, 
without none of the Injuns molesting ye,” said 
Mrs. Fowler, with mildly expressed doubt. 

Her husband’s face, a little flushed when he first 
came in, became more so now. His eyes blazed 
with a passion which he seemed to have been re- 
straining with difficulty all the while. 

It ain’t any of your business how I git ’round ! ” 
he cried, with an expletive. He flung off the gentle 
hand on his arm and glanced around the room with 
terrible ferocity. Never before had they seen him 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


03 


give away like that. And yet Lem and Sue, at 
least, had instinctively realized that he was<3apable 
of it under certain conditions. 

Let’s all be calm as we can,” said Fowler’s 
companion, without relaxing that hideous grimace 
which Rube, and little Davey also, had at first mis- 
taken as a sign of good humor. 

Si, standing near the single window, looked at 
Lem. The latter shook his head, and both main- 
tained the silence which had not been broken since 
the entrance of their father. Sue drew nearer her 
mother, and her sweet face was not one whit less 
determined than were those of the older boys. 

‘‘ Father ! ” she exclaimed, in a reproachful voice. 
He turned upon her, raising one clenched hand. 

Don’t 5'ou dare to interfere, Susan!” he re- 
torted. Don’t you dare to do it 1 ” 

The good white man rose and put a restraining 
hand on the upraised arm. The fire which his in- 
sidious speech had kindled threatened to become a 
bigger blaze than intended — or, rather, it was burn- 
ing too rapidly, and might too soon burn out alto- 
gether. 

‘‘ I wouldn’t Josiah — not to her ! ” he said, smil- 
ing at Fowler and then at Sue. She’s pretty nigh 
a young lady, and mighty likely to look at, too,” 

The upraised hand fell, and the enraged man’s 
gaze wandered from the face of his daughter to 
that of the elder son. 

‘‘It’s better for all on us to listen to reason,” the 
good white man continued, with the mild air of a 
peacemaker, and bestowing his smiles on each in- 
mate of the cabin in turn. 

“ They’ve got to listen to’t,” said Fowler. 

“And they will, of course,” averred the good 
white man. ' “ Ye see,” he continued, “it happens 
that we — your pa and me, and one or two other 
peace-lovin’ men — are engaged in trade of one sort 
and another, and we’re obleeged to dicker with the 


94 WHAT DAVEY OVERtlEARl). 

white settlers and Injuns, both good and bad, and 
even with Frenchmen, if they happen to be of a 
peace-lovin’ sort, and so, in one way and ’nother, 
we have a ’vantage. In short anybody as is under 
our care, is purty sartin to have no trouble with the 
savage varmints that are agin’ e’n a’most every- 
body else.” 

Here was a good deal of talk, but Lem followed 
it closely, and perceived that it disclosed nothing. 
It was plausible but evasive. 

^‘1 can’t protect you if you stay here,” said Mr. 
Fowler, ‘‘and I can’t do anything for you anyway 
unless you come with me now. I give in to ye the 
last time I was here, thinking a day or two of 
danger would fetch ye ’round. I shan’t give in 
again. Your mother will go if the rest of ye do ; 
and the rest of ye are children of mine, and ye'll do 
as I say ! ” 

Still neither word or sign from Lem or Si. The 
mother covered her face with her hands. 

“ Come,” Mr. Fowler impatiently exclaimed. 
“Why ain’t ye pickin’ up? I tell ye there’s no 
time to lose. Lemuel, why do ye stand there as 
though yar was dumb ? Git the guns and ammu- 
nition, what we can carry, and be lively,” 

“I’ve n-n-no right to say what marm shall d-do,” 
said Lem, speaking as deliberately as his stammer- 
ing utterance would allow. 

Fowler did not stop to hear what Lem was say- 
ing, but with an angry stride reached the side of 
Silas, whose gaze did not flinch, although he took a 
step backward. 

“ You defled me yesterday,” the man exclaimed, 
“Now you will obey. Put down that gun and 
come with me ! Do you hear ? ” 

Then all noticed for the first time that Mr. Fowler 
held something in his left hand. They had at first 
supposed it to be a gun, but now he changed the 
object over to his right hand and raised it over ^ 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


95 


It was a large yet supple rod of birch, a blow from 
which in the arms of a strong man might cut to 
the bone. Lem and Sue saw the object and ex- 
changed glances. There was a quick rush toward 
the angry father, and before the rod could descend 
it was snatched from his grasp, broken twice in two 
and flung across the room. ''Father! father!— 
don't ! ’’ pleaded Sue, as the maddened man turned 
and grappled wdth his tall son who had disarmed 
him. 

The good white man looked on and smiled, as 
though this dreadful quarrel and the sujffering it 
must entail were not of his making. 

It was over almost before Eube, who had observed 
the whole scene without taking part in it, fairly 
realized that it had begun. Such a quick, passion- 
ate encounter does not admit of a detailed descrip- 
tion. One can picture only the beginning and the 
result. 

Mr. Fowler was sent reeling across the small 
room, and, his foot striking an article of furniture, 
he tripped and fell heavily. He did not rise again, 
and the first one to reach his side and bend over him 
was Lem. He raised his father’s head and let it rest 
against his arm, while he called for water. Eube 
brought it in the wooden dipper ; the others, except 
the good white man, gathered around him with 
white faces. 

Mr. Fowler’s head had struck with considerable 
force upon the hewn log floor, and the concussion 
had stunned him. The water soon acted as a restor- 
ative, and no doubt it at the same time in a measure 
quenched the unnatural passion into which he had 
been worked. He sat up, looked in a dazed way at 
Lem, and then rose to his feet, declining the assist- 
ance his son would have lent. Staggering across 
the room he sank upon the wooden settle from which 
the good white man had risen. 

Mrs. Fowler approached him in her quiet manner, 


06 


WHAT DAVHY OVERHEARD. 


while the boys stood back. Lem breathed hard 
from his exertion and the excitement of the brief 
encounter. 

Josiah,” said Mrs. Fowler, tremulously, putting 
a hand on his arm. 

“Wei], what do you want?” was the impatient 
retort. He at the same time flung off the conciliat- 
ory hand. 

“Are you much hurt, Josiah ? Your head must 
have struck pretty hard.” 

“Little do you care. The idea of him striking 
me— his father ! Where’s that stick ? Broke, is it ? 
Get me another, will you ? I’ll teach ’em that they 
can’t defy me ! ” 

This last was addressed to the good white man, 
who advanced insinuatingly, showing every tooth in 
his head. Fowler rose "unsteadily, and rudely 
pushed his wife aside. 

“ As I was tellin’ of ye last night,” said the good 
white man, much as though he were resuming an 
interrupted conversation, “ I never tried for to stand 
out ag’in my dad but once, and I showed ye what 
come of it. But maybe my dad was a more resolute 
man than they average. He struck fust. It’s a 
strong p’int to strike fust. But I don’t want to in- 
terfere in a family affair. Like enough a more 
yieldin’ nature, like your’n, is better. Shall we be 
goin’ along ? I s’pose it won’t be hardly pleasant 
for ye to stay here when it’s so clear that your boys 
mean to be marsters of the house. I’m too kind- 
natured to feel right in stayin’ to see a friend abused 
by his own family. Not that the young lady ” — with 
a srnirk at Sue — “has showed anything but a be- 
comin’ spirit.” 

These words, so mildly uttered, were like fire to 
the excited brain of Mr. Fowlei'. 

“ The boys ain’t masters here yet ! ” he cried. He 
glared about hiin for something with which to en- 
force his authority, not noticing that the good white 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


97 


man had hastily flung open the door and stepped 
outside. A moment later, with that vicious smile 
still wreathing his face, this peace-loving individual 
reappeared with another birchen rod, stouter than 
the one Lem had broken. 

Only Lem observed this significant action, and 
he instantly divined that the new rod had been 
provided beforehand by the stranger for this very 
emergency. And before the good white man could 
cross the threshold he was confronted by the tall 
youth, whose stalwart form effectually barred the 
way. 

“W-w-w-we don’t need any of your h-h-help.” 
said Lem. 

‘‘Just as your dad says about my cornin’ back 
in,” said the good white man. “ It ain’t for me to 
interfere in a family on pleasantness, unless he says 
he wants me to.” 

“Yes, yes — come in!” exclaimed Mr. Fowler. 
“If Lemuel interferes, knock him over. I give 
you leave.” The unhappy man had again seated 
himself on the wooden settle, with an exhausted 
air. It looked very much as though he would have 
• been glad to give the battle over to his strange com- 
rade to finish. 

A more sudden transformation than that which 
the good white man’s countenance underwent when 
Mr. Fowler addressed to him the words just quoted 
could not be conceived. The smile became a vicious 
leer, and every feature took on an expression to 
match. It was such a chance as a skilled artist 
will sometimes give by a single stroke of his pencil 
to a face he has sketched. 

“Ye hear what he says ?” the man exclaimed 
with a snarl. 

Lem glanced at Si, who advanced in his deliberate 
way. 

“ Shut the door when I say the w-w-word,” stam- 
mered Lem. At the same instant their enemy 


98 WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 

raised the rod and brought it down with a spiteful 
hiss. The youth had no time to wholly elude the 
blow. To have leaped backward would have given 
the man a chance to enter, and Lem received nearly 
the full force of the blow across hi^ up-raised arms 
rather than surrender the advantage of his position. 
The sting of pain redoubled his resolution. Before 
the rod could descend again Lem had seized it, 
and in the struggle for its possession it was broken. 
The man gained the threshold, and to dislodge him 
was more than the youth could have done alone. In 
truth, he realized that the stranger was a man of 
great physical strength, as well as of remorseless 
temper. In a fair encounter he might have been 
more than a match for Lem and Si together ; but 
the latter, deliberate though he was, readily saw 
that the advice of their enemy to strike first’’ 
would be good to follow in the present instance. 
The result was that the good white man was sent 
reeling backward under a blow from Si’s musket, 
which struck fairly on the man’s shoulder. The 
door was closed and barred iDef ore their enemy could 
return to the attack. 

Mr. Fowler witnessed the brief encounter in a 
dazed sort of way, and did not seem to realize its 
import until it was over. Then he sprang to his 
feet, trembling as much from weakness as anger. 

‘^What have you done ?” he demanded, as Lem 
and Si faced about. 

If we want any 1-1-licking done here,” said Lem, 

we had ruther k-k-keep it all in the f-f -family.” 

‘‘You’ve shut the door on my friend. And you 
struck me,” continued Mr. Fowler, with the air of 
a child rehearsing his wrongs. 

“ Queer sort of a friend, that man was,” said Si, 
with his drawl. 

“I’ll do the t-t-talking,” interposed Lem, as his 
mother was about to speak, for he saw that a word 
from her, in the present mood of her husband, 


WHAT DAVEY OVERHEARD. 


09 


would irritate him more than anything else. And 
Mrs. Fowler realized that her dignified elder son 
was right. 

“ K-k-keep an eye out for that varmint that shows 
his t-teeth, ’’ was his direction to Si. Then, to his 
father, in a decisive yet respectful tone : 

“ That man with the teeth put you up to trying 
to 1-1-lick Si and me, and you ought to have 
kn-n-own better. You ain’t yourself. You’re 
t-t- tired and u-u-used up, and, had better g-g-go to 
bed. C*c-come.” 

As he spoke, Lem drew his father’s arm within 
his own, and, to the amazement of the others, Mr. 
Fowler was led docilely into the bedroom adjoining. 

He may be more reasonable when he w-w- wakes 
up, and he m m-may not,” said Lem, re-appearing a 
few moments after. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 

Although not a word or hint had been dropped by 
any member of the family pointing to the fact, yet 
it was tacitly understood by all that Mr. Fowler’s 
eccentric behavior was partly due, in the present 
case, to excessive drinking. He was not fairly in- 
toxicated ; in truth, they had seen him much the 
worse, for liquor at other times when he had mani- 
fested none of that ferocity of temper toward his 
children. 

That varmint with the t-t-teeth just winds dad 
round his finger, and there’s more p-p-pisen in his 
everlasting grin than there is in a whole nest of 
rattlesnakes,” said Lem, in the low- voiced discussioiq 
into which all entered while Mr. Fowler slept 

“Been better if I’d used my gun on him t’other 
day,” remarked Si. 

“ I’d rather shoot him than a dozen Indians,” said 
Sue, with a fiash of her dark eyes. 

Mr. Fowler slept until near nightfall. But this 
period was not passed in idleness by the inmates of 
the cabin, Lem and Si ventured to visit the spring 
for water, and as no signs of danger were encount- 
ered upon the first trip, another and another were 
made, until all the receptacles in the house were 
filled with the indispensable fluid. Then the axes 
V ere brought into requisition, and a considerable 
number of hardwood trees were felled, trimmed 
and cut into eight and ten-foot lengths. These the 
boys dragged to the house, two at a time. 

“We can f-f -fight here as well as anywhere,” 
said Lem, while he swung his felling-ax with swift, 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


101 


ringing strokes. But we must b-b-barricade the 
house. It was dad’s notion building so far from a 
s-s-s-settlement, and now we’ve got to stay and f-f- 
f ace the music.” 

‘‘ Most everybody that tries to reach a fort gits 
cut off by the Injuns,” observed Si, whose ax fell 
about once while Lem’s did three times. 

‘‘Yes, and women and children d-d-don’t stand 
much of a chance in the woods. They c-c-can’t 
jump into the river and swim, nor climb t-t-trees 
very handy.” 

“ Sue has got as much grit as you have,” drawled 
Si. 

“Likely she’s got m-m-more,” Lem admitted. 
“ But I couldn’t git over the ground very fast with 
p-p-petticoats flopping around my heels. She 
couldn’t s-s-swimin ’em anyway.” 

“ She and inarm could put on some of our old 
breeches if we had to make for the settlement. ” 
Which suggestion of Si’s was adopted afterward, 
for a purpose which we wiU not now anticipate. 

At noon it was decided to feed Solomon Wheeler 
as liberally as he might desire and send him forth 
to shift for himself. The man grumbled at being 
thus turned out to the mercy of the redskins, but 
it was patent to aU that he suffered from chagrin 
rather than fear. 

“If the Injuns scalp you weTl scalp some of 
them to pay for’t,” was Si’s comforting assurance 
as the man took his departure. They were especial- 
ly eager to have him go before Mr. Fowler should 

Mrs. Fowler and Sue were as busy as the boys. 
The spinning wheel, which in those days was an 
almost indispensable requisite to every thrifty 
housewife, set up its busy drone, and the fluffy 
rolls of wool were transformed into yarn by the 
skilled Angers of Mrs. Fowler. Sue, with equal in- 
dustry, made use of the loom, w'hich it was then a 


102 HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 

of the highest domestic thrift to possess. Nearly 
all the clothes worn by this backwoods family, as 
well as of many others at that time, were home- 
spun, woven and made. 

The useful domestic arts were then the fashion.’’ 
Now that the necessity of many of them has passed 
away, the more luxurious accomplishments take 
their places. The household furniture of^ the 
Fowlers was nearly all home-made, for Lem, Si and 
even Eube could handle axs, hatchets and hand- 
saws with much skill. Mr. Fowler though a skil- 
ful mechanic when he had a mind to turn his hand 
to such work, really did but little of it. He would 
sometimes set vigorously to work on a wooden 
chair or settle, but before completed it was invari- 
ably turned over to Lem or Si. He would have a 
sudden call to go hunting or fishing. 

It might not be out of place here to briefly de- 
scribe the dress of these backwoods boys. 

Their labor being of the hardest kind, and as boys 
then, as now, were “hard on their clothes,” all 
wore when at work breeches and leggings of leather, 
and when the weather was cool enough to require it, 
a leather jerkin also. In summer time all went 
barefoot about the dwelling and fields — even Sue, 
who was as pretty and sprightly a young woman as 
could be found. The boys had lighter garments of 
homespun wool,, which they put on when not at 
work on Sundays, or their rare excursions to a set- 
tlement. Eube’s woollen breeches came so fre- 
quently to mending that his mother insisted on 
patching them^ with leather, both in front and rear, 
a fact which Si took advantage of by making draw- 
ling comments on the picturesqueness of his ap- 
pearance when “ dressed up.” Hence Eube affected 
a dislike of his woollen garments, saying they were 
“too scratchy” in warm weather. 

Such, without romantic embellishment, were the 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


103 


dress and life of the average settler’s family of the 
time of which we are writing. 

The rude log cabin, its plain furniture, the house- 
hold utensils, all of which represented labor, money ; 
with the fields of grain and vegetables surrounding 
the dwelling, represented all the worldly possessions 
of the Fowlers. This fact, with that of their re- 
moteness from a large settlement or frontier fort, 
and the extreme liability to capture or death at the 
hands of the foe if they hazarded an attempt to reach 
an outpost, were reasons enough for their reluctance 
to abandon all. They must face danger in any case. 
The boys, with Mrs. Fowder, and Sue as well, pre- 
ferred to stay and defend their home. 

As the day drew near a close the boys still con- 
tinued at work. A considerable pile of posts, such 
as they had been cutting and hauling to the cabin, 
was collected near the door. They next began the 
labor of building the barricade, which, however, 
they were able then to make but slight progress 
upon, owing to a succession of interruptions. 

First, Mr. Fowler awoke and came out. He looked 
haggard and ill-humored, but stood in the doorway 
for some time watching the boys without vouch- 
safing comment of any kind . And the boys, accord- 
ing to their usual habit when he was in one of his 
moods, said nothing to him. While all were thus 
engaged, a well-known voice caused the boys' to drop 
their axs with exclamations of joy. It was a child- 
ish voice that thus electrified them, and in another 
moment little Davey was being hugged and kissed 
by three or four at the same time, including Sue and 
Mrs. Fowler, who ran out to meet him with joyful 
cries. 

Their delight was turned into alarm on seeing 
Winawis, the young Nipmuck, who had brought 
Davey in his arms, suddenly pause in his advance, 
and with lightning quickness unsling his bow and 
draw an arrow to the head. A glance told them the 


104 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


cause for this action. Mr. Fowler had levelled his 
musket at the Indian the moment the latter ap- 
peared ; they were hence confronting each other like 
duellists. 

Sue sprang forward to stay the hand of the Nip- 
muck, and Lem, no less decisive, caught the arm of 
his father just as the gun was discharged. 

Winawis, seeing the distress of Sue,- raised his 
aim at the last moment and sent the arrow on its 
flight high above the top of the dwelling. 

This action was purely one of mercy, for he knew 
Fowler meant to take his life, and as the report 
of the white man’s weapon echoed back from the 
forest the Indian staggered backward and would 
have fallen but for the strong arms of Sue. 

“ You would kill our best friend ! ” cried Lem. In 
the sweep of passion that came over him the youth 
seized the gun and wrenched it from the man’s 
grasp. Then, without waiting to see what his fath- 
er would do, joined his brothers and sister, who had 
gathered around the young Indian. 

“Not bad,” said the latter, with a faint smile, 
while, to show that he was still proud in his manly 
strength, he drew himself erect. 

His hunting shirt on the left shoulder was moist 
with blood. Examination showed an ugly-looking 
wound in the flesh, where the bullet had ploughed 
through in its course. The missile had not lodged, 
however, and Winawis, without the faintest sign of 
pain, directed Sue how to put on a bandage so as to 
check the flow of blood. 

“Good,” he said when she had. finished, and well 
might he say so, for never was a wound bound up 
by gentler hands. 

young Indian into the house past 
Mr. Fowler, neither looked at the other. Mrs. Fow- 
ler had come out and little Davey was cuddled in 
her arms, and despite the child’s resoluteness he 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


105 


could not help but sob a little in that haven of 
safety. 

Mr. Fowler stood moodily regarding the child as 
the mother caressed him. He did not speak until 
Lem came out again. Then he turned to the latter 
and called for his gun. 

‘^I’m going away,” he abruptly declared. 

What f-f-for Lem was looking the man 
squarely in the face when he asked the question, and 
Mr. Fowler averted his own gaze after a moment of 
silent embarrassment. 

‘‘You think you’re all smarter’n lam, and can 
run things better than I can,” he replied. 

“We don’t think any s-s-such thing,” Lem pro- 
testested, in his calmest manner. 

“You’ve turned agin’ me,” persisted the man. 
“I’d have done better if I had brought ye up with 
more lickings. ” 

“ T-t-too late to make up for lost t-time in that,” 
stammered Lem. 

The man turned to Kube. “Get my gun,”, he 
said, and the boy obeyed. He hastily examined 
the weapon, but started off without stopping to 
load. 

“ C-c-come, father, there’s no use of our quarrel- 
ing,” said Lem, following him. 

The man paused and stood with his gaze fixed 
grimly on the forest. 

“ This is your home as well as our’n,” the youth 
went on, and there was a suspicious tremor in his 
voice that showed a feeling much deeper than the 
words he was speaking. In that moment he yearned 
more deeply for a word or look of fatherly sympathy 
and encouragement than ever before. “If we’re 
p-p-plucky we won’t have to give up our home. 
Let’s all hands t-t-take hold and b-b-barricade the 
house, and hang to it. C-c-come !” 

The appeal was so full of sound sense, and so 


106 HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 

earnest and frank withal, that it was not without 
effect. 

'' It ain't safe for me to stay here," said the man, 
after moment’s hesitation. 

‘‘ It ain’t safe for us to g-g-go." 

‘‘ It would be if you’d trust me and my friends.” 

^‘We d-d-don’t know who your f-f -friends are.” 

The man was silent again, and Lem went on, still 
more earnestly : 

‘‘ If you’d only o-o-own it up, father, you’d admit 
that that chap with the t-t-teeth is a s-s -scamp. If 
he was a friend he wouldn’t advise to 1-1-lick your 
b-b-boys when he knows they’re too old for it to do 
’em any good. He is of the s-s-sort to get you into 
h-h-hot water and leave you there. And, father, 
now we’re t-t-talking serious, and there ain’t any- 
body nigh to hear what we say, why don’t you 
t-t-take me into your confidence ? I’m pretty nigh 
being a man, and you ought to trust me. Tell me 
what b-b-business takes you away from home so 
much — why you go hunting and never f-f -fetch back 
any g-game ?” 

The look that came into the face of the man was 
one of astonishment rather than anger at this ques- 
tion. He fidgeted with his gun a moment before 
speaking. 

That’s a queer question, I must say,” he ex- 
claimed at last. 

'‘It’s a q-q-question we would all feel better if 
you wasn’t af eared to answer it square.” 

"Who is ‘all’?” 

" Mother, S-S-Sue and the rest of us. You and 
that chap with the t-t-teeth have some business 
that you’re secret about. You can’t expect us to 
t-t-trust you unless you t-t-trust us.’’ 

"Nonsense!” Mr. Fowler snapped his fingers 
and tried to dismiss the question, contemptuously. 
But Lem’s firm hand rested on Ins shoulder, and 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


107 


Lem’s fearless blue eyes would not leave his father’s 
face. There were only two ways of escape — by 
opening his heart to the stalwart youth, or by re- 
sorting to an unreasonable burst of anger. For a 
moment the question trembled in the balance, and 
even Lem did not dream how near he was to vic- 
tory until the weaker side of the man’s nature suc- 
cumbed. He turned upon Lem almost fiercely : 

So your mother and the rest of ye have been 
taking counsel agin’ me ! ” he cried, throwing off 
the youth’s hand. 

‘‘ Nothing of the kind,” said Lem ; but his father 
would not let him explain. 

‘‘The minute I’m away from ye,” continued 
Mr. Fowler, in that savage tone which Lem had 
never heard him use till that day, “you and your 
mother conjure up all sorts of suspicions agin’ me, 
and talk ’em over with the children. That’s why 
Si and Eube, and even Davey, turn agin’ me now ! 
D’ye think I’ll stay here and put up with it ?• Git 
out of the way or I’ll ” 

He clutched the gun threateningly, his eyes blaz- 
ing, his face almost purple. Lem stepped back, and 
with saddened eyes watched the strange man strid- 
ing off across the clearing. 

“ What did father say ? ” asked Si, who came out 
to meet Lem before the latter reached the house. 

“ I tried to get his c-c-confidence,” said Lem, in 
a low voice. 

“How did you make out 

“ He got m-m-mad again. I wish he’d stay here 
and open his h-h-heart to us. I have a feeling that 
the time will come when he’ll n-n-need us worse 
than we ever needed him.” 

The boys resumed work on the barricade, the 
method of building which we will presently de- 
scribe. Winawis joined them, lending a willing 
hand, and his natural craft enabled him to make 


108 


HOME LIFE ON THE FRONTIER. 


many valuable suggestions which would not other- 
wise have occurred to the brave young defenders. 
All were thus engaged until twilight came again. 
Their operations were interrupted in a rather un- 
expected manner. It was by the appearance of a 
horseman on the edge of the clearing. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE SCOUT. 

It is a white man,” declared Winawis, who was 
the first to discover the horseman. 

The latter halted on the edge of the clearing 
and took a survey of the cabin and fields. Then he 
rode up at a walk, and reaching the upright timbers 
of the uncompleted barricade dismounted. He 
would have advanced within the barrier had he not 
been halted by Lem. 

‘‘ About f-f-far enough till we know what you 
w-w-want,” he said. 

Whose house is this ?” the stranger asked, with 
a glance at each of the boys, and lastly, with some 
suspicion, at the young Indian. 

‘‘ I s’ pose my f-f -father calls it his’n.” Lem re- 
plied, “and his name is Fowler when he’s here.” 

“Josiah Fowler?” asked the stranger, who held 
his horse’s bridle with one hand, and a very long- 
barrelled musket with the other. 

“ The same.” 

“ And you’re his boys, I take it ?” said the other, 
briskly. 

“All but h-h him,” with a nod toward Winawis. 

“ Where ’bouts is he — Josiah Fowler, I mean,” 
pursued the other, with a reserve in his manner 
that deepened Lem’s curiosity. 

“That’s mor’n I could t-t-tell you,” Lem answered. 
“He went off an hour or two ago. He isn’t here 
m-m-much of the time, anyway.” 

“ He isn’t, eh ? ” And the stranger, who was about 
thirty .years of age and had a generally weather- 


110 


THE SCOUT. 


beaten appearance that bespoke a life out of doors, 
sent another sharp glance at Winawis. 

‘‘Who’s he?” he demanded, with a jerk of his 
head toward the young Indian. 

“A friend of our’n/” drawled Si, who had come 
forward to show that the defence of the house did not 
depend wholly on the young six-footer who had con- 
ducted that side of the conference up to that point. 

“ Si wants to show off a little, now,” said Eube 
aside to Winawis, but loud enough for the others 
to hear. 

“You better go into the house, Eube, afore it 
gets so dark you won’t darester,” was Si’s retort, 
and the stranger smiled and leaned forward a little 
to get a better view of the younger boys and per- 
haps to ascertain just how many there were. 

“ Quite a b-b-brood of us,” remarked Lem, inter- 
preting the other’s action. 

“ I should say so. Putting up a defence, are 
you ? Had some trouble with the Injuns ? ” 

“ A little,” said Lem. 

“I guess they had more trouble with us,” was 
Si’s remark. 

“I should think so, if your father is as plucky as 
you seem to be. You have a fair show for making 
a good fight here. The Injuns can’t get very nigh 
without coming out of cover, and they’re mighty 
shy of doing that when bullets are fly in’. Most of 
^the settlers cut and run as soon as they hear some- 
“body say ‘ Injuns.’ I take it that your father hated 
, to give up his home ? ” 

This query was spoken with such an indifferent 
air that none of the boys perceived the deeper 
motive behind it. The black eyes of the young 
Nipmuck, however, fixed all the while on the face 
of the stranger, brightened with intelligence. 

“ He wouldn’t shed many t- tears over g-g-g-giv- 
ing it up,” answered Lem. “He advised us to 
r-r-run or surrender. But we’d rather f-f-fight.” 


THE Seoul’. 


Ill 


it isn’t the old man that directs the building 
affair?” pointing at the embryo stockade. 
^Not at all.” 


But he s ready enough to let it keep the Iniuns’ 
bulleis way from him I’ll venture,” and the stranger 
laughed in a way to please the vanity of the young 
defenders For it was as much as to say, “ I see 
the boys have got more pluck than their father.” 

Not that, exactly,” Lem hastened to correct. 

•He s p-p-pl^cky enough, hut we don’t always 
agree.” 

The youth thought himself very discreet in re- 
fraining from all definite explanation of the situa- 
ation. But the stranger seemed highly gratified by 
the reply. 

You don’t mean to say that this father of yours 
leaves the defence of the house to the boys?” 

Lem took alarm at this and quickly retorted : 

I asked you what you w-w- wanted mister, and 
I don’t remember as you’ve t-told us y-y-et.” 

‘‘I wanted to see Josiah Fowler,” said the young 
man in the most self-possessed manner imagin- 
able. 

^^If he is in the house,” he added, I wish you’d 
ask him to come out.” 


told you he had g-g-gone away.” 
know you said so, but I’ve been told things 
afore now and found out afterwards that I wasn’t 
told right. Oh, you needn’t fiare up, ” as Lem showed 
signs of making an angry retort. ‘‘I don’t mean 
that I think you’d lie about it. You might think 
he’d gone, you knotv, and still be mistaken.” 

F-f -father isn’t here,” said Lejn so decisively 
that the stranger bowed with polite acknowledg- 
meut, saying quickly : 

‘•All right, all right, sir. Of course, you know 
whether he is or not. I called to see him, that is all, 
and now I must hurry along. By the way, though. 
I’ll say that you’ll need all your pluck in a few days. 


112 


THE SCOUT. 


If you can get horses I advise 3^ou to start for safer 
quarters. If you can’t, you may be as well off here 
as anywhere. You’re a little off the track of the 
big bands of Injins. They hang round the settle- 
ments to cut off careless stragglers. I may be back 
this way in a day or two and if you’re still here 
we’ll see what can be done for you.” 

The man sprang into the saddle, but did not ride 
away, as he saw that Lem wished to say more to 
him. 

‘‘We’re nothing but b-b-boys,” said the youth, 
“ and we’re willing to take good advice. We’ve got 
a mother and sister who can handle a musket pretty 
nigh as well as anybody. There’s one little chap 
that can’t do anything but k-k-keep us busy look- 
ing out for him. If you say we’d better make for a 
settlement, I’U t-t-tell ’em, and maybe we’ll take 
the advice.” 

“Where would you go if you left here ?” asked 
the horseman. 

“ Pontoosuc is the b-b-biggest settlement nigh us.’’ 

“No use going there,” said the stranger in his de- 
cisive way. “ There is’nt a white man there by this 
time, like enough. They was all making for Stock- 
bridge when I passed that way a few days ago. ” 

“What’s the good of going to S-S-Stockbridge ?” 

“ They’ve got a stockade there, and they’re mak- 
ing it a sort of rendezvous. S’pose you could git 
your wimmen-folks and the youngster there with- 
out delay ? ” 

“ How f-f-fur is it ?” 

“ Twenty mile’ or more as a bird flies. Road 
part of the way, after you strike it. Safer to keep 
to cover, though.” 

“ Would you advise us to t-t-try ? ” 

“ No ; not now, at any rate. There’s Injuns ’twixt 
here and there, and without bosses some of you’d 
get cut off. That’s the plain fact, and you may do 
as you’re a mind to.” 


THE SCOUT. 


IIB 


Again the stranger started off, but the horse 
moved at a walk, and Lem walked at the animal’s 
head. 

“ Who are you, any-h-h-how the youth asked, 
when they were beyond earshot of the others. 

‘‘ I’m one of the Connecticut valley scouts.” The 
stranger spoke in a low tone, and added with a 
laugh : ‘‘You know the Colonial Government offers 
a bounty for Injun scalps. So hair is the crop that 
we scouts are most anxious to harvest, and if you 
ain’t sure that young redskin yonder is friendly, his 
scalplock would Count one for me. I’ve done some- 
thing to-day.” 

The speaker as he spoke plunged his hand into a 
receptacle hung upon his saddle and held aloft an 
object that made Lem recoil with a shudder. He 
had heard of the bounty, and of the hardy, fearless 
men who traversed the beautiful valleys of the 
Connecticut and Deerfield rivers, rendering un- 
counted services to settlers and making themselves 
a terror to the Indians, who shunned their tracks 
as they would a pestilence. 

“ So you’re a s-s-scout ! ” exclaimed Lem, with a 
new interest in the weather-beaten young stranger. 

‘'And my name is Dan Clayton,” volunteered 
the stranger. 

“ H-h-hold on ! ” cried Lem, as the scout again 
started his horse. “ What — what did you want of 
f-f -father ? ” 

“ Never mind, as long as he isn’t here,” was the 
answer that came back, for the horseman gave the 
youth no chance to ask further questions. 

There was a tumult of nameless apprehensions in 
Lem’s mind as he returned to his companions. 

Lem and Si obtained their ideas for the construc- 
tion of a stockade during a brief residence near a 
Settlement on the Deerfield river, which was the 
place from which Mr. Fowler had last removed with 
his family. 


114 : 


ME SCOUT. 


Of course they could imitate the structure which 
they had seen only on a small scale. They designed 
putting up a barrier on two of the four sides of the 
cabin, one inclosing the cowshed, the other the 
front of the house. 

The trees were cut into ten-foot lengths, and two 
sides of each were hewn nearly square, so that 
when set upright they would have a close contact 
of at least three inches. This would guard against 
penetration by bullets. The tops were sharpened 
so that it would be difficult to climb over them. 

Eube and Si dug a trench two feet in depth, ex- 
tending as far as they were to build the barrier. 
The ground was mellow and free from roots, and 
the use of the spade was easy. They soon began 
setting the timbers and banking the earth around 
them. They had not time for elaboration, and as 
the work progressed it could not be called artistic 
in appearance. Yet the clear head of Lem over- 
looked no point of precaution, even to the placing 
of the loopholes at a height from the ground that 
would prevent their use by the enemy from the out- 
side, and bringing them right for the young defend- 
ers by raising an embankment under them on the 
inner side. 

As evening approached Mrs, Fowiei and Sue 
came out and lent all the assistance they could, and 
with all working so rapidly, the structure was well 
toward completion when the darkness of night had 
fully descended. 

Considerable was done on the defence after the 
departure of Dan Clayton, the Connecticut valley 
scout, and when they ceased work the stockade was 
available for shielding them from any shots from 
the forest that might be fired, although it was far 
from being secure against an energetic attack. 

Bright and early the next morning work on the 
defense was resumed. The night had passed with- 
out sign of the enemy, and the young defenders 


THE SCOUT. 


115 


had several hours of much-needed sleep. Winawis 
had volunteered to act as sentinel through the whole 
night, and when morning came he announced his 
intention of going out to reconnoitre. Nothing 
could deter him from his purpose. 

^‘Your red brother can help you more in the 
forest than by staying with you,” he declared. And 
off he went. In the afternoon he returned with a 
bundle of venison, with which to replenish their 
waning store of provisions. But he would not stop 
to partake of it with them. By this time the 
stockade was completed, and the inmates of the 
little cabin in the clearing felt a sense of security 
such as they had not experienced before since they 
had first become aware of the presence of hostile 
Indians. Night came again, and it almost began to 
seem as though all danger was passed, so many 
hours had elapsed without sign of the enemy. 

The rest of you go to bed and I’ll w-w- watch,” 
said Lem, vrhen night had fairly settled upon forest 
and clearing. 

‘‘We can divide the night atwixt us just as well,” 
said Si. “I ain’t very sleepy, and I might as well 
learn to take my turn.” 

“I don’t b’lieve the Injuns will trouble us much 
more this time anyway,” declared Rube, who natur- 
ally took the appearance of security at its face value. 

It was finally decided that Lem should watch the 
first half of the night, and if there were no signs of 
danger of any sort then. Si should then take his 
turn on guard. 

Before they began to prepare for bed, however, 
Lem hurriedly entered the house, having but a 
moment before taken a survey of the clearing from 
the several sides of dwelling and stockade. 

“ Wait — s-s-something is the matter,” he stam- 
mered. “Winawis is coming this way at a run. 
He made signs for one of us to come out and meet 
him. You \v-w-wait till I come b-b-back,” 


116 


THE SCOUT. 


Si and Eube followed him as far as the wall of 
the defence, and watched him through a loophole 
as he went to meet the young Indian. 

The latter paused within twenty yards of the bar- 
rier, and flung himself flat upon the ground. Lem 
did the same. The tall grass and weeds nearly con- 
cealed them from the observation of Si and Eube, 
and to any one watching from the forest they would 
have been quite invisible. Si and Eube could scarce . 
contain their curiosity. 

Why didn’t I go as well as Lem drawled Si, 
realizing that the Indian’s signals might have been 
for him to answer as much as for the elder brother, 
and that by his slowness of wit he was now obliged 
to endure suspense. 

If he meant you, he meant me,” asserted Eube. 

“ He’d know better’n to expect you to come out 
away from the house after dark.” And Si coolly 
opened the gate of the stockade and went out 
where Winawis and Lem Fowler crouched in the 
grass talking. The latter sprang to his feet upon 
hearing Si’s footsteps. What are you c-c-coming 
for?” Lem demanded. They both obeyed a vehe- 
ment gesture of Winawis and dropped upon the 
ground. 

‘‘I didn’t know but I was needed, and thought 
I’d be on the safe side,” drawled Si. 

t-t-told you to wait.” Lem turned again to 
Winawis and added : 

“ He will have to know, and so will m-m-marm. 
I’ll tell him.” 

But he must stay with his brothers and sister,” 
declared the Nipmuck, decisively. 

‘‘ Of course. It wouldn’t do for us all to g-g-go. 
S-S-Si,” he continued, laying one hand on his : 
brother’s shoulder, ‘‘there ain’t much d-d-danger 
from the redskins for a d-d-day or two if you only 
keep a sharp lookout. But there’s another d-d-dan- ] 
ger Just now that I’ve got to ’tend to. ” 


THE SCOUT. 


117 


about father, I s’pose ? ” Si inquired, as Lem 
hesitated. The latter nodded gravely and remained 
silent. 

“And that scout that was here to see him last 
night?” he pursued, showing that nothing of im- 
portance had escaped his memory. 

“Yes, it’s father and the s-s-scout,” said Lem. 
“ The scout is hunting f-f -father just as sharp as 
he’s hunting Injuns, and Winawis says that if 
they should m-m-meet, the s-s-scout would take a 
white scalp to puc with his red ones, and get a b-b- 
bounty for it just the same ! ” 

Si could see that Lem’s face was very pale, and 
the hand still resting on his arm trembled. But Si 
remained cool. 

“ Then dad is an ally of the Injuns, is he? ” he 
asked in his deliberate way. 

“ I d-d-don’ t know. He has d-d-done something 
that he is liable to be shot for, and s-scalped, too, if 
that keen-eyed young scout is the one to t-t-take 
him. But it mustn’t be. We must d-d-do some- 
thing to save f-f -father. He must be w-w- warned.” 

“Where is he?” asked Si. It began to dawn 
upon him that stalwart Lem was taking upon him- 
self a duty that called for the sternest kind of hero- 
ism. He looked at Winawis, but saw nothing in 
that impassive face. 

“You come to tell us that dad was in trouble ?” 
Si questioned. The young Indian nodded. 

“ And last night dad tried to kill you ?” 

The Nipmuck’s face lighted up as he replied : 

“If your red brother wanted revenge he would 
take it himself. He is not a coward.” 

“You’re a noble chap, Mpmuck,” said Si, warm- 
ly. Lem had said even more than this before Si 
joined them, and the Indian was enjoying the re** 
ward of true magnanimity through their commend- 
ation. 

Where is father ?” Si again asked, 


118 


THE SCOUT. 


‘‘Not far off— y-y-yonder, in the woods. There’s 
others him with, and that s-s-scout is watching ’em.” 

“ The chap with the teeth is with him, for one ? ” 
Si suggested. 

“ Yes,” said Winawis. 

“What can you do, Lem ? If you interfere that 
scout may take a notion to scalp you.” 

“Father must be s-s-saved,” declared Lem, and 
his tones were never more resolute. “We must 
m-m-manage to get him back to the house and then 
we’ll shoot the s-s-scout himself rather than give up 
the man he wants.” 

“I hate to have you go off this way, and so wiU 
Sue and marm. Was you going with Winawis ? ” 

“ Yes. Now, now you are here, you can go back 
and t-t-tell the folks how it is. Then I shan’t have 
to go back.” 

A few parting injunctions were exchanged, and 
then Si hurried to the house. 

“Lem thinks more of father than I supposed,” 
said Si, after he had told his mother and Sue of the 
perilous mission on which the red and white youths 
had gone. 

In the meantime Winawis took his companion di- 
rectly to a small natural opening in the forest, 
where they discovered the good white man, Solomon 
Wheeler, Mr. Fowler and two others conversing 
quietly around a small campfire. 

There were numerous natural pathways through 
the forest, trod both by men and beasts, and it was 
along one of these that Winawis conducted Lem 
Fowler to the encampment. 

After Lem had silently surveyed the persons 
around the fire, the Indian drew him back and 
pointed at footprints in the path made by heavy 
boots. And back a little way they found the prints 
of hoofs, and the spot where the wearer of the boots 
dismounted. 


THE SCOUT. 119 

'^The question is, if Clayton is hanging around 
here now, or has g-g-gone for help said Lem. 

‘‘ The white scout would not go far,” declared 
Winawis. 

Then you think he is nigh at this minute 

‘^Yes, and he is not alone. There is another 
scout with him, and they are waiting for a chance 
to surprise these palefaces when they are asleep. 
The time will soon come. See ! They are lying 
down for the night. Only one will stay awake to 
watch.” 

They had returned to their point of observation, 
and what the Nipmuck said was true. To the in- 
tense relief of Lem the lot of sentinel duty fell to 
his father, and the others rolled themselves in 
blankets and stretched out upon the ground with 
their feet toward the fire. Lem’s mind was intense- 
ly active and he did not wait for a suggestion from 
Winawis. The moment he was assured that his 
father’s companions were nearly or quite uncon- 
scious in slumber he stepped noiselessly into the 
opening. 

Josiah Fowler half raised his musket and as 
quickly lowered it again. He recognized his son, 
and saw the latter’s fingers on his lips as a sign for 
silence. Lem, upon catching the man’s gaze, 
hastily retreated to cover, motioning his father to 
follow. 

The moment of hesitation on the part of Mr. 
Fowler was an awful moment to Lem. But curi- 
osity, if nothing more, was enough to impel Fowler 
to obey the signal. 

‘‘What in the world brings you here?” he de- 
manded in a whisper. 

“ To s-s-save you,” was the breathless response. 

In a sentence Lem told of the visit of the scout 
to the cabin, and of the more recent warning of 
Winawis. Even in the darkness he could see that 
bis father’s face had become very pale. 


120 


THE SCOUT. 


Like the hostile Indians, it was plain that this 
man had reason to dread an encounter with the in- 
domitable valley scouts. 

‘‘You must go b-b-back with me, father,” said 
Lem. That is what I have come here for — to take 
you back, and to defend you against the s-s-scouts 
or Injuns — n-n-no matter which.” 

Fowler hesitated, glancing at his sleeping com- 
rades. The Good White Man lay in plain view, and 
the flickering firelight fell upon his vicious-looking 
teeth, which were displayed even in sleep. 

‘‘If I desert them,” he breathlessly began, but 
Lem was already drawing him away. 

“D-d-doiTt wait ! ” pleaded Lem, quickping his 
steps, and glancing about them for Winawis. The 
latter had disappeared. 

The moment Fowler lost sight of his comrades a 
panic seemed to seize him. His stalwart son had 
need no longer to draw him away from the camp. 
The sound of snapping undergrowth in their rear 
seemed to fill him with overpowing terror. He be- 
gan to run, with Lem just in advance, faster and 
faster as they got farther from the camp, faster and 
faster in panic-stricken flight and wild fear of 
losing sight of the tall form leading the way, and 
wild fear in his heart of being left alone to meet 
terrible justice at the hands of the pursuing scouts, 
or a scarcely less dreaded penalty of desertion from 
that strangely vicious comrade calling himself the 
Good White Man. 

On and on along the forest paths, leaping over 
obstructions, imagining the sound of hoof-beats 
and a panting horse in hot. pursuit, and angry 
shouts in the distance from those he had deserted 
without warning them of their danger. 

We say he imagined these sounds, and so he did. 
The truth was, his late companions were still sleep- 
ing, m blissful ignorance of his departure. And as 
for the relentless white scoutS; they — or one of 


THE SCOUT. 


121 


them at least — was crouching in the thicket near 
the path along which father and son were flying, 
and saw them pass so close that he could have 
touched them with the long barrel of his rifle. And 
he did not offer to check their flight, although he 
bent toward them with a grim smile, muttering to 
himself : 

‘ ^ That was the big young fellow that stutters, 
and it was the old man Fowler with him. Kunnin’ 
away from me, it’s likely. Well, I can catch ’em 
when I get ready, so let ’em run.” 

They had nearly reached the edge of the clearing 
when the form of Winawis appeared in the patch, 
and Lem halted. His father, out of breath, cast- 
ing looks of apprehension over his shoulder, and 
into the darkness on either side, stood close to his 
son, with one hand resting, as though for greater 
protection, on ' the latter’s shoulder. A more 
marked example of the weakness of guilt, and con- 
trasting strength of self-sacriflce it would be hard 
to And. 

Wait,” said Winawis, in his low, musical tones. 

It will do no good to run so fast. You must not 
go back to the cabin now, for that is what the 
scouts expect. They have seen you and know what 
you would do, and they do not follow now because 
they would rather wait till you are at the cabin, so 
they know w^here you are, and then they take their 
time. My white brother must lead them on a false 
trail.” 

Lem hesitated. His spirited nature prompted 
him to make open resistance rather than resort to 
strategy. But the thought that his way might fail, 
while the plans of the young Indian would gain the 
end sought, deterred him from rejecting the Nip- 
muck’s counsel. 

T-t-tell us your p-p-plan,” said Lem. 

‘‘ Winawis would take you to a hiding-place that 
he believes is known only to him. He will lead the 


122 


THE SCOUT. 


way His white brother will follow with the pale- 
face he wishes to hide. If there is danger Wiiiawis 
will give warning by the cry of a whip poor- will. 

“And if we hear the c-c-cry how shall w'e know 
it isn’t a real b-b-bird ?” 

“ It will sound only three times, then pause, then 

once again.” ^ , ,, 

“And what shall I do if I hear the w-w- warn- 

ing ? 

Winawis will not be far in advance, and will 
return. His brother must w ait and be ready with 
his gun. Now follow. Winawis will keep in sight 
at first. When he runs on ahead he whl make the 
cry of an owl so that his white brother can follow 
by sound.” 

The Indian began leading the way while speak- 
ing, at a silent yet quite rapid pace. After a while 
he went faster, and it being difficult to keep him 
constantly in sight, Lem depended on the signals 
agreed upon, and was thus led by the Nipmuckover 
a devious route that brought them at last to the 
crest of a low hill. 

At this point there were few trees, but a tangle 
of blackberry briars instead. One side of the hill— 
that upon which they had come up on — was a grad- 
ual slope. But Lem, recognizing the locality, re- 
membered that the other side was precipitous, lead- 
ing to a sort of gully, along which the stream at that 
point flowed toward the Housatonic. 

At this point they came up with Winawis, who 
stood upon the very brink of the declivity. 

Follow close,” was his laconic injunction, and 
he led them down the face of the jagged rock, at the 
only point where descent was possible. There were 
numerous clefts and juts, with clinging vines and 
stunted shrubbery, and to an agile person the de- 
scent was neither hazardous or very difficult. 

At a point half-way down the Nipmuck paused 
and said ; 


THE SCOUT. 


123 


Let my white brother turn away his face until 
he hears a chipmunk’s cry. Then let him look 
again.” 

It will be noticed that in his speech Winawis per- 
sistently ignored Mr. Fowler, for which it is easy to 
divine a reason. Curious as to his purpose, Lem 
averted his face, and Mr. Fowler, who had not 
spoken since the beginning of his flight, mechanic- 
ally followed suit. 

They had scarcely done so when the appointed 
signal was heard, and facing about, they were a 
little startled to find that the Nipmuck had disap- 
peared as completely as though the face of the rock 
had opened and swallowed him. 


CHAPTER Xr. 

THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


The night passed at the cabin without alarming 
incident, except that the inmates began to feel con- 
cerned at the non-appearance of Lem or the Nip- 
muck. But with the coming of dawn, a horseman 
rode up to the gate of the defense and coolly dis- 
mounted, heedless of a stern command to halt from 
Si. The courier was Dan Clayton, the scout. With 
calm assurance he knocked on the gate with the 
stock of his musket. 

‘ ‘ Come, come ! ’’ he exclaimed in his brisk, com- 
manding tones. ‘‘You mustn’t put on too many 
military airs here — you boys. I bring news. Let 
mein.” 

“If Lem was here he’d shoot him rather than let 
him in,” urged Si as his mother and Sue advised ad- 
mitting the scout. 

“ There can be no harm in opening the gate for 
him, now father isn’t here,” urged Sue, who was 
perhaps influenced by the ruggedly handsome face 
and engaging manner of the visitor. Rube and Mrs. 
Fowler seconded this argument, and Si was secretly 
glad to yield, although he felt all the while as though 
he was showing himself to be weaker in. decision 
than Lem. 


Clayton tied his horse and sauntered leisurely 
across the space within the stockade and into the 
bouse. Sue placed a chair for him. 

“We’ve let you in and now we’re ready for the 
news you promised us,” said Si with a drawl. 

“That’s the way to talk, youngster,” Clayton re- 
turned, “I like to see a body that isn’t af eared to 


THE SCALP-HUNTEH. 


1^5 


Speak right up as if they wasn’t afeared of anybody. 
The news I promised you is, that the Injuns are 
coming this time, sure. They’ve camped about eight 
miles northwest of here, and I am afeared they’ll 
wipe out everything in their path as they pass 
along, unless something gives ’em a setback. But 
they m^y not touch you here. They have no need to 
know but 3mu’ve got a big garrison here. You’ve 
got a pretty likely looking stockade, from the woods, 
and if you could only manage to keep up a brisk 
fire when the redskins come in sight they might give 
you a wide berth. Eedskins are a cowardly set of 
dogs, every time. Are you afeared, miss ? ” 

“I know there’s danger, sir,” said Sue, blushing 
so prettily that the scout could not conceal his ad- 
miration, and from that moment there was more 
constraint in his manner. 

‘‘ You know how to fire a gun, I dare say ?” Clay- 
ton questioned, regarding the resolute backwoods 
girl with new interest. 

I shouldn’t be afeared to try if there was an In- 
jun to shoot at,” she replied. 

That’s the stuff to make girls of,” the scout ex- 
claimed, turning to Si with an admiring nod. 

^‘She can take care of herself,” said Si, with un- 
mistakable coolness. 

Clayton went on to talk about the French and 
Indians and their cruelty to settlers in the English 
colonies, and before he got through related several 
anecdotes of adventure, of such a thrilling character 
that his listeners were quite absorbed. He boasted 
of no personal exploits, however. The anecdotes 
were all of a comrade’s bravery, and never of his 
own. In spite of the prejudices against him when 
he entered, he was on a quite friendly footing with 
all save Si, before he had been in the house an hour. 

Si held off for prudence sake. 

Clayton glanced several times about the room in a 
furtive manner. He abruptly asked ; 


m 


TH»E SCALP-HUNTER. 


Where’s t’other one ? The tall fellow that 
stammers ?” 

He isn’t here,” Si answered. 

‘‘ Not here ?” The scout’s surprise was genuine. 
He looked from one face to another, and suddenly 
rose to his feet. There was a slight hardening of 
the lines on his face as he said : 

‘H’d rather you’d lie to me, out-and-out, than to 
quibble. Your tall brother went out last night and 
he and his father came back afore daylight. I saw 
’em. I’ve watched the clearing ever since and they 
haven’t left it. I know so much. I won’t hurt the 
young chap, but the father must go away with me. 
I don’t want to make ye trouble, but I’ve come too 
fur to take that man to go back without him, and 
he’s got to go, fight or no fight ! ” 

Si was awed by the scout’s sternness and it fell 
upon Sue to reply. 

You’re mistaken, sir,” she said, ‘^if you think 
you saw Lem and father come back. We haven’t 
seen them, and they couldn’t come without our 
knowing it. No, if you think I’m lying, look the 
premises over all you’ve a mind to. We won’t 
hinder.” 

Clayton did not speak so sharply the next time. 

I only want the truth, miss,” he returned, loGrC- 
ing at her searchingly. 

Si told you the truth. But if you’re not satis- 
fied look ’round for yourself.” 

It might be well enough for me to look ’round, 
as you say.” And Clayton rose, and, crossing the 
room, looked into the smaller room where Davey 
was stiU sleeping, and afterward into the cowshed. 
Before re-entering the house he made a thorough 
examination of the premises. 

‘‘It’s aU right; they ain’t here,” he quietly de- 
clared, reappearing in the doorway. 

“ then you’ll b’lieveus when you have ter?” 
drawled Si, in anything but a gracious tone. Th^ 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 12Y 

scout returned to his chair in the most complacent 
manner imaginable, 

‘‘You can be as offish as you like,” he observed, 
bending toward Sue and her mother. They occupied 
the wooden settle near the door, and there was a 
defiant flush on Sue’s face when he came in. 

“But when I tell you what I’m going to, mebbe 
you’ll come down a little,” he continued, and some- 
thing in his tones quickly palliated the eftect of his 
recent doubts. 

“ When we’re telling the truth we like to be be- 
lieved,” said Sue. 

“ That’s natural. And when I’m after the truth 
I ain’t going to take up with anything short of it, if 
I have to raise the temper of all the worn en-f oiks in 
the colony. But never mind. I was mistaken, 
though I don’t understand how. You say the young 
man and Mr. Fowler haven’t been here at all since 
they went away ? ” 

“ They have not.” 

“Didn’t expect ’em afore 

“Yes.” 

“And that young Injun — where is he ?” 

“He and Lem went away together.” 

“ They went to fetch your father back here, didn’t 
they?” 

“I think so.” 

“ I seen ’em all in the woods, and they were com- 
ing this way. I thought I was sure of them, but 
there were some others I wasn’t sure of, and I went 
back to make sure of their being watched. Then I 
took a nap. Then I come here. I’ve made up my 
mind tjiat you don’t know what sort of a man 
Josiah Fowler is. Do you ?” 

Mrs. Fowler was very pale. Sue was trembling, 
and neither spoke. 

“I thought not,” the scout went on, his voice 
softening. He was silent a moment, and then con- 
tinued : 


128 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


And still you knew there was something wrong 
about him. By the talk of the boys I know he has- 
n’t stood by you as a father oughter in times like 
these. You haven’t always agreed. That tall boy 
that stammers and his father have struck fire a little 
when they were together lately. Ain’t that so ? ” 
Dad knows better’ll to stand out ag’iiiLem!” 
exclaimed Eube, unable to restrain his enthusiasm 
for his elder brother’s resoluteness. 

Dan Clayton nodded and smiled. 

‘^So I thought,” he said. “ The father has got 
everyone in his family ag’in him, unless I’m mis- 
taken. And yet, when Josiah Fowler is in down- 
right danger, fiesh and blood tells. All on ye would 
turn on me to save him, and mebbe it would be right 
in ye to do it. But I’m going to tell you what I 
think ye didn’t know afore. T’other night, when 
the redskins were firing at this cabin and watching 
for a chance to cut one of you off, and the same 
night when a dozen settlers’ cabins were burned up 
the river, and helpless women and children were 
shot down and scalped, the redskins had some prime 
good guns and extra good powder to do the cussed 
work with — better guns and ammunition than the 
French could give ’em. How did they get ’em, then ? 
Of a pi’son set of white men that makes a business 
of trading ’em off, ag’in the laws of the colony. 
Josiah Fowler is one of them p’ison traders that’ll 
sell powder and ball to be turned ag’in his own fiesh 
and blood. And for the scalps of them traders a big 
bounty is offered. I was sent here to search out the 
white varmints, and to take back their scalps as 
proof that they’d gone out of the treacherous trade. 
What do you think of that ? ” 

The inmates of the cabin were breathless listen- 
ers to this revelation. 

Mrs. Fowler had suspected something of the kind 
before. Sue and Si, of course, knew something 
was wrong, yet they did not before realize the char- 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


129 


acter of their father’s crime, nor the terrible 
penalty incurred. Eube could as yet hardly com- 
prehend the import of Clayton’s words. 

Sue was first to find voice to speak. She ad- 
vanced and laid a hand beseechingly on the young 
scout’s arm. 

You w’-ould not do — do that to my father ? ” she 
exclaimed. 

******** 

Of course Lem knew the young Indian had 
merely concealed himself as a test of the security 
of the hiding place to which he was taking them. 
The white youth was confident that a moment’s 
search would disclose it, for the moon shone bright- 
ly on the spot. Bat he soon found out that the 
task was not so easy. The face of the rock was 
broken only by narrow clefts hardly large enough 
to conceal the little animal whose ory the Indian 
imitated. There was no shrubbery large enough 
to conceal a man, or the opening to a cave, and 
yet the Nipmuck was not in sight. 

To add to the tantalization of the moment, 
there lay Winawis’ bow and quiver on a jutting 
shelf or rock. Lem picked them up, then looked 
where they had lain, then up and down the precip- 
itous sides of the descent. 

Thirty feet below the narrow stream hurried 
along with its scarcely audible murmur. Its eddies 
and ripples were silvered by the moonlight, for the 
opposite bank was low and unshaded. A few 
alders nodded and dipped to kiss their reflections 
in the brook. Down the stream Lem saw the 
narrow, curved wake of a muskrat as it swam 
across a broader and more placid spot. 

Winawis could not have dropped into the water ; 
he could not have clambered back to the top of the 
ascent. The conformation of the cliff was such 
that the place of hiding must necessarily be within 
four or five yards of the spot where the quiver and 


130 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


bow were left. And Lem, a little impatient at what 
seemed like his own dullness, set to work with 
dogged persistance to fiud his red friend. He hunt- 
ed over every inch of surface, as he would have 
looked for a piece of money. Mr. Fowler, in a 
dazed sort of way, stood and watched him, without 
taking part in the search. 

But the youth’s efforts were in vain. He began 
to feel something akin to superstitious awe. Had 
he been familiar with the story of the Forty 
Thieves,” he might have tried a magical ^^open 
sesame,” and expected to see the solid face of the 
rock open on noiseless hinges. But the oriental 
tale was unknown to him, and in his prosaic life 
there were no imaginings drawn from Eastern myth 
or story. Winawis had simply hidden himself in 
some niche, which, perhaps, could only be seen from 
a particular position. And as Lem persisted, until, 
realizing that considerable time had passed, and 
that scouts or Indians upon the opposite bank of 
the stream could observe them, he was glad to give 
up the search. 

‘‘ I give it up,” he called, in a cautious tone. I 
can’t find you, Nipmuck ; sh-sh-show yourself.” 

As if by magic a section — to so call it — of rock 
seemed to fall inward, leaving an aperture, through 
which the young Indian crawled. Then, reaching 
in with his arm, he pulled the rock back into 
place 

To Lem it looked like legerdemain, for the frag- 
ment which was moved with such apparent ease 
must have weighed several hundred pounds. 

^ Winawis was smiling at Lem’s bewildered expres- 
sion, and quickly explained the matter. 

“ Push,” he said, and see how easy. My white 
brotner has the strongest arms — see what he can 
do.” 

Lem obeyed, and used so much more force than 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


131 


necessary to move the ponderous stone that he was 
pitched forward with violence. 

“ It is a cave — not deep,” said Winawis. ‘‘ Room 
there for four or five men. The rock move easy be- 
cause it balance so close. We all three could not 
push it farther than it is now. We can move it 
back and forth just so far — that is all.” 

More plainly, the small boulder rested on a small 
oval surface that, while its equipoise was so per- 
fect, permitted it to be rocked as easily as though 
its weight were barely a pound. Its play was just 
sufficient to open a space over the top large enough 
to admit the body of a medium-sized man to the 
small cavern beyond. 

Winawis had first found it by chance, and it was 
only by a similar chance that it would ever be dis- 
covered, unless someone were watching when a 
fugitive entered the cave. 

“ He will be safe there,” said the Nipmuck, mean- 
ing Mr. Fowler. 

“ And I will s-s-stay with him while you go back 
and t-t-tell the folks we’re safe,” declared Lem. 

Mr. Fowler was led to the opening and obediently 
entered it. Lem tarried outside only for a parting 
word with Winawis. 

‘‘You think the s-s-scouts know nothing of this 
place ? ” he eagerly questioned. 

“ They have never found it,” was the confident 
reply. 

“ And how 1-1-long before they will give up the 
search ? ” 

The Indian shook his head. “ My brother asks 
to know too much. It may be a long time. But if 
the white man would live he must not let them see 
him at all. He must stay here night and day till 
the scouts have given up the hunt. My brother had 
best stay with him until another night and then 
Winawis will take meat to the one in the cave. 
My brother must not go and come, for the scouts 


132 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


will watch, and in that may find out his secret. 
That is the counsel of the Nipmuck.” 

And g-g-good counsel it is, Nipmuck,” said Lem. 

The young Indian’s patience and devotion, espec- 
ially in the defence of the one who so lately tried to 
take his life, was touching to the appreciative 
youth. The latter felt as if it were almost too much 
to accept at the Indian’s hands under the circum- 
stances. 

“ There are more than the scouts to fear,” added 
Winawis. 

‘‘What do you m-m-mean ?” 

“The bad white man with big teeth, and the 
others with him.” 

“That’s so — I hadn’t thought of them. They 
would be glad to b b- betray f-f -father, now he has 
left them. They would be the worst enemies he 
could m-m-meet now.” 

The Indian picked up his bow and quiver, saying : 

“When the sun rises Nipmuck will return with 
food, if it is safe.*” 

“And if anything should h-h-happen that you 
couldn’t come, what s-s-should I do ? ” 

“Go for food, and be careful as you can. That 
is all. 

The white youth crawled into the opening and 
pushed the boulder back into place. 

“Now, f-f -father,” he said, in the dense gloom in 
which they found themselvers, “your only chance 
is to s-s-stay here till I s-s-say it is safe to go. Your 
late c-c-cronies are as bitter ag’in you now as the 
scouts be. If you ain’t killed by one or t’other it 
will be because Winawis s-s-saves you. You must 
remember who is your b-b-best friend.” 

Mr. Fowler did not speak, but the other could hear 
him breathing heavily, as though oppressed by 
suffering which he could not utter. A crisis had 
come in the man’s life, and it i-emained to be seen 
whether good would be worked out by it. 


THE SCALP-HUNTER. 


133 


Lem listened for the departure of the Indian, and 
was presently startled by the rei)ort of a gun, corn- 
ing apparently from the opposite side of the stream. 

The youth’s heart swelled with apprehension. 
Listening, he heard a dull splash in the water ; then, 
another gun shot, followed by shouts. These 
sounds were repeated several times, and grew nearer 
each time. 

“ They followed us after all,” said Mr. Fowler, 
in a hoarse voice. A moment later he added : 

‘‘ You had better save yourself, Lemuel. I ain’t 
worth fighting for.” 


CHAPTER XIL 

WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 

Instead of clambering back to the summit of the 
precipice, the Nipmuck descended to the stream and 
started to swim across. 

At the very moment of entering the water he 
espied several shadowy forms skulking along near 
the opposite shore. 

The thought that perhaps the hiding-place of the 
fugitive was discovered after all caused him to 
pause, standing in the water, which was up to his 
neck, and so motionless that, unless he had been 
already seen, he would not be likely then to be 
noticed. 

The skulking forms disappeared. At the same 
time Winawis saw one of the alders move more 
violently than the gentle breeze could have made it, 
and an instant later the head and shoulders of a 
white man were thrust into view. 

It was so light that Winawis recognized the face 
instantly. That was not all. The other’s glance, 
in a rapid scanning of the surface of the stream, 
instantly perceived the dark head of the young 
Indian, and so prompt was the enemy’s action that 
Winawis ducked beneath the suface barely in time 
to avoid a rifle shot, the bullet striking and glancing 
from the face of the precipice in his rear. 

The white man was as decisive in his next action 
as he had been in the first. He flung down his gun 
and leaped into the stream, swimming toward the 
spot where Winawis would be most likely to re- 
appear. 

The stream wai^ not deep enough to afford effect- 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 


135 


iial concealment by diving and swimming under 
water, an art in which the Indian was an adept. 
Therefore he was at a disadvantage, so far as the 
hope of avoiding observation was concerned. 

Recognizing this fact, he lost no more time in 
strategy. He could only flee openly — it were better 
to do that than risk a hand-to-hand encounter. 

The foe was a powerful man and viciously per- 
sistent. The Indian, too, thought, of leading him 
away from the vicinity of Mr. Fowler’s hiding place, 
for even Dan Clayton, the indomitable scout, were 
a better foe to deal with than this pursuer, with 
the grinning countenance and the prominent 
teeth. 

Winawis rose to the surface, marked the space 
betwixt himself and his pursuer, and then bent 
every energy to reaching the bank of the stream at 
the point from which the good white man had 
come. 

The latter did not divine the other’s purpose at 
first, but as soon as he did so he made equally 
strenuous efforts to balk it. But in the water the 
Indian was an expert. He doubled on his enemy’s 
course, passed within arm’s length of him in doing 
so, reached the bank, scrambled up from the water 
far enough to reach the white man’s gun which he 
seized and flung into the stream. 

An observer might have thought it wiser for him 
to have retained the weapon, or to have used his 
own bows and arrows. But the Indian knew that 
his weapon could not be depended upon now it was 
wet, and there was no time to try and miss. Had 
he not been compelled to dive beneath the surface 
he would not have injured his bow-string by wetting 
it then. 

He had now rendered the white man’s gun use- 
less. The owner did not stop to try to recover it. 
He followed the Nipmuck, reached the bank just as 
the latter sprang to his feet and sprang away to- 


136 WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 

ward the shelter of the forest, which was not far 
distant. 

Then the good white man uttered a hoarse shout. 
It was answered from near at hand ; Solomon 
Wheeler and one of the other treacherous traders 
appeared, saw the fugitive, and both fired after him 
as he disappeared in the woods. 

Their shots were harmless, and they joined their 
leader in pursuit. The fugitive heard their heavy 
tread close in his rear, but he did not fear them 
now. Until they could reload he was safe, and to 
do that they must come to a halt. To load and fire 
an old-fashioned musket while on the run was too 
complicated and doubtful an undertaking to be at- 
tempted by many. And no matter how hard they 
tried, Winawis was by far more fleet of foot than 
any of them, and after a few moments they kept 
up the pursuit more from a dogged reluctance to 
give it up than with any hope of success. 

Winawis kept on at a swift pace for some time 
after he had ceased to hear sounds of pursuit. He 
at last returned to the stream at a different point, 
crossed it and made his way leisurely to the clear- 
ing. 

Just in the edge of the cornfield he flung himself 
down to rest. Two hours’ slumber refreshed him, 
and soon after daylight appeared. 

He was about to approach the cabin when he saw 
Dan Clayton do so: He, therefore, waited until the 
horseman came away, some time after sunrise. He 
then hastened back into the forest too prudent to 
show himself there at that time, knowing that 
Clayton would be on the watch, and that he would 
find a way to trail the Mpmuck back to the hiding- 
place of the fugitive. 

Still he was anxious to get some word to the de- 
fenders of the cabin, telling them of the safety of 
Lem and Mr. Fowler. Winawis had learned to 
write, and upon a piece of birch bark he traced th^ 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 1B7 

message with a pointed stick and a drop of his own 
blood aspen and ink. He newly strung his bow, 
and shot the arrow, the message attached, with his 
usual accuracy, directly into the stockade. 

Whether the message was found immediately or 
not he did not wait to see, but made his way back 
in the direction of the hiding place instead. With 
his silent- voiced weapon it was safe and easy to ob- 
tain fresh game, and in a sheltered spot he cooked a 
liberal supply. 

Now came the most hazardous part of his under- 
taking. 

If Mr. Fowler’s late comrades suspected the de- 
serter to be hiding near the spot where they had en- 
countered the young Nipmuck they would, of 
course, watch in the vicinity for his return. 

Yet Fowler and Lem would both suffer for food 
and drink if they were not supplied soon. 

Winawis, tireless as the wind, began approaching 
the spot by a devious route, literally feeling every 
inch of his way, hiding his own trail, listening, 
going back to reconnoitre, sparing no toil that could 
add to the caution of his approach. 

In spite of all, as he was ascending the hill toward 
its crest, beyond which lay the precipitous descen t, 
he heard an ominous ‘‘click ” from a thicket which 
he was passing. At the same time Dan Clayton 
stepped into his path with leveled gun. 

“Hold on, Injun !” the scout exclaimed, and the 
Nipmuck obeyed. The latter did not offer to flee or 
draw an arrow. He regarded the bronzed face of 
the scout as calmly as though they had met by ex- 
press appointment. 

“What does my white brother want ?” Winawis 
inquired in his most musical tones. 

“He wants you to go to the Fowler cabin and 
stay there,” was the unexpected retort. 

“And what if he doesn’t wish to go said the 
Indian. 


138 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 


‘'He must do it any way. That’s what.” The 
scout lowered his weapon and the sternness of his 
face relaxed a trifle, as did the harshness of his 
voice, as he added : 

“ You must take that big young chap that stut- 
ters back with you. I understand that you're a • 
friend of the family, and as a friend of ’em you 
must stay where you can to do ’em the most good.” 

“There will be no danger at the cabin before an- 
other sun,” said Winawis quietly. 

“You don’t know whether there will or not,” 
was the gruff rejoinder. “At any rate, I have 
their interest and your’n at heart when I tell you to 
go back now and to take the young fellow with 
you.” 

“But my young white brother is not with me.” 

“ Ha ! But you know where he is, just the same. 
Come, redskin, don’t be contrary. You know what 
I’m driving at. You can’t save that man from his 
deserts. 1 couldn’t, for there’re others watching for 
him. But you can save the young chap, and you 
can both help to defend the family. Now, redskin, 
mind what I say ! ” And the scout’s voice fairly 
trembled in his earnestness. 

Winawis found himself in a position where his 
native sagacity failed him. Here was a man whose 
whole life had been spent in combating Indian 
strategy, and who excelled the Indians themselves 
in woodcraft. This was not all. Clayton had 
great shrewdness, and to deceive him in anything 
was not easy. He was brave to recklessness, and 
there was scarce a power or influence in the world 
strong enough to make him swerve from a purpose 
on which he was once fully bent. 

Besides realizing this Winawis knew there was 
unanswerable force in the scout’s logic. The 
chances of escape for Josiah Fowler were indeed 
very small, and it was not worth while for worthy 
lives to be thrown away in his defence. Lem and 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 


130 


himself would soon be needed at the cabin to defend 
it ELgainst savage assailants. There was nothing 
really unkind in the advice of this fearless young 
scout, and even his voice and manner were persuas- 
ive rather than imperative. 

‘‘ Would my white friend desert a brother he had 
promised to defend Winawis asked after a brief 
pause. 

‘‘No. But you don’t count that treacherous 
white trader as a brother, do ye ? Didn’t he shoot 
at you yesterday 

“I did not make the fight for him, but for his 
son. The young brother is too brave to let them 
kill his father without doing all he can to save him. 
He would lose his life in the defence. It is his life I 
would save, and for his ' sake I would fight for his 
father.” 

“You’re an obstinate Injun— did you know it ? ” 
exclaimed the scout. 

“If my white friend says so,” was the calm reply. 

“You’re contrary as a hog — that’s what you are!” 

The scout brought his gun down with a thump to 
emphasize his words. The Nipmuck was silent, 
and Dan Clayton went on with a grufPness that was 
not wholly excited by the Indian’s “obstinacy.” 

“D’ye think I couldn’t put my hand on the cuss 
within ten minutes if I wanted to ? D’ye s’pose we 
let ye hide him up without keeping an eye on ye 
when ye did it ? ” 

Winawis was too sharp not to perceive that all 
this boasting was unfounded. 

“If you know where he is then it will do no good 
for me to take my white brother aw'ay with me,” 
said the Indian. 

“It will, too. It will get him out of the way 
while we finish up the business. See here, Injun — 
I ain’t fooling. If it was in my power to let that 
miserable critter live, I’d let him. But it isn’t. I 
want to help his family. There’s a young wonian 


140 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 


there, brave as a soldier, and pretty enough fer any- 
body. rd spare her father if it was for me to do it. 
But it’s beyond my power, and so I want to do the 
next best thing, and that is to save her big young 
lion of a brother.” 

‘‘ Winawis has listened to all his new friend had 
to say,” said the Nipmuck in a low, firm voice ; 
“but he can do no more than his friend thinks he 
can do. He has given his word to stand by the 
young white brother, and he can never break his 
word. He must do all he has promised. When the 
right time comes he will take his brother back to 
the dwelling. But not now.*” 

Clayton scowled for a moment, and then smiled. 

“Well, let it go, then. You was going to the 
hiding place, I take it ? ” 

“ I have been there and come away again,” was 
the Indian’s crafty reply. 

“You needn’t be so sly ; I don’t want to know 
where ’tis. I wish it couldn’t be found. But it will 
be, and afore many hours, too. I — there ! What 
did I tell ye ? Here comes another of the scouts that 
are bound to clean out the like of that Fowler. Ha ! 
look out or he’ll have your topknot — he don’t know 
but you’re like the rest of ’em, you know ! ” 

Sure enough, a tall, gaunt stranger was coming 
toward them and, seeing the young Indian, he half 
raised his gun. 

Winawis only smiled, and made no move toward 
fieeing from the stranger. The latter lowered his 
weapon and came up, eyeing the Indian while he ad- 
dressed to Clayton the terse demand : 

“ Who’s this, Dan ? ” 

“A fool of an Injun who won’t take good advice,” 
was the characteristic reply, but spoken in a mild 
voice that proved the other’s sentiments were mild- 
er than his speech, as they often were. 

y Can’t ye make him ?” the older scout inquired, 
yuth grim gravity. 


WlNAWIS AND THE SCOHT. l4l 

It’s hardly worth while, Carter. We’ll have to 
let him go it and take the consequences.” 

Clayton turned his back on the Mpmuck, and the 
latter lost no time in availing himself of the chance 
to glide quietly away. That the eccentric young 
scout really preferred to abandon the search for Mr. 
Fowler, Winawis was sharp enough to divine. And 
yet it was not likely that he would abandon it, since 
he was pledged to persistence, and would be 
accountable for any laxity of purpose to the older 
scout. 

Winawis dared not attempt then to get food to 
tlie fugitives. It began to look as if he would have 
to wait until sheltering darkness fell once more be- 
fore hazarding an effort. Yet he did not give it up, 
except for the hour. 

He kept watch of the scouts until they started off 
in another direction together. He followed them 
until he became satisfied that they were looking for 
someone besides Fowler then, and that they would 
not be likely for some time to return to the vicinity 
of the fugitives’ concealment. 

Then, after many tedious precautions which only 
the patience of an Indian could have carried out, 
Winawis made his way to the entrance of the cave. 

A cautiously uttered signal and the boulder fell 
hack. In the cave, the Nipmuck found Fowler and 
Lem as he had left them, and explained to them the 
difficulties which he had met when leaving them 
early in the morning. 

Their interview was brief and rapid, and then the 
faithful young Indian went away, leaving behind 
the plentiful supply of food he had prepared. 

To the prisoiiers in the small, dark cave the 
time dragged wearily enough. Mr. Fowler was not 
inclined to speech, and Lem deemed it wise to 
humor his mood. 

As night approached, the youth made ready to 
depart. 


142 


WINAWIB AND THE SCOUT. 


m-m-must go back and look after the 
c-c-cabin,” he said. 

Wouldn’t it be safe for me to go with you ? Mr. 
Fowler asked, breaking a long silence. 

You’re s-s-safer here.” 

‘'I don’t see why. You’ve got a good defence, 
built there, and I could help you defend it.” 

“Against the Injuns, yes,” returned Lem. But 
you’ve got other enemies. If the s-s-scouts came 
and ordered us to g-g-give you up, what could we 
d-d-do?” ^ . 

“ You could serve ’em as you serve the Injuns, 
said Fowler. 

“ Would you have me do that ? W-w- would you 
draw your whole f-f -family into a war with the 
m-m-men who’re really our best f-f-f riends ? ” ^ 

Fowler was silent a moment, and then, to Lem’s 
surprise, answered in an altered tone : 

“ You’re a good boy, Lemuel, and a brave boy. 
Do everything as you think best, and I’ll do as you 
say. I’ve been a fool all my life, and I’m finding 
out what a brave boy I’ve got now it’s too late.” 

Lem’s heart swelled with hope — the hope that he 
was winning what he had missed so bitterly — a 
father’s confidence and love. But not to push a 
matter which might ripen too fast, he remained 
silent until ready to leave the hiding place. Then 
he said : 

“ I will send you word when I think it safe to 
m-m-make any change. Nipmuck will serve as 
m-m -messenger at ween us, and you can trust him 
in every way. M-m-may God watch over you ! ” 

They clasped hands as they had never done before 
and parted in silence Then Lem went forth from 
the cave, waited outside to listen for a minute, and 
then clambered to the top of the precipice. 

Making his way cautiously through the black- 
berry briars near the crest of the hill, he soon became 
conscious of rapidly approaching footsteps- 


WINAWIS AND THE SCOUT. 


143 


The youth had barely time' to crouch in a dense 
thicket when a man rushed past in headlong flight, 
not heeding the lacerating briars or steepness of 
the ascent. 


CHAPTER Xm. 

THE OTHER SCOUT. 

The moon had not yet risen, but the sky was 
clear, and where there were no trees to cast their 
shadows one might readily recognize a face or 
form that had been seen before. 

The man that rushed past the thicket where Lem 
Fowler was hiding was Solomon Wheeler, the same, 
who, as a pretended fugitive settler, sought refuge 
in the Fowler cabin, and whose ruse had been dis- 
closed by Lem’s shrewdness. 

There was no pretence about the man’s present 
efforts. Every feature of his big, coarse face, every 
motion of his lank limbs bespoke the wildest terror. 
He did not seem to know that the ascent was 
steep, although he panted breathlessly.^ His 
clothes were torn by clinging thorns, while his feet, 
now bare, must have been painfully lacerated at 
everp step. 

Solomon Wheeler was closely pressed by a pur- 
suer, who likewise rushed past the thicket. The 
pursuer was one of the Connecticut valley scouts, 
the comrade of Dan Clayton. With his long rifle 
tightly grasped in one hand, he tore through the 
trailing undergrowth, gaining on the fugitive at 
every step. 

Lem instinctively knew what the issue would be, 
and with the thought that it might have been his 
father in the fugitive’s place, he started up the 
slope in the tracks of the scout, with a fascinating 
desire to behold the struggle. There were no trees 
or other objects to obstruct the view, and the youth 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


145 


could hardly have avoided witnessing what occur- 
red if he wished to do so. 

Solomon Wheeler strove frantically to reach the 
summit of the ascent, though what he intended to 
do in the event of succeeding, it would be hard to 
conjecture. But he soon saw that he could not 
reach it. Then he faced about, and held up his 
hands in an appeal for mercy. 

The scout did not pause until he was within a 
dozen paces of the fugitive. Then his long rifle 
was leveled, and as Wheeler turned again to fly, in 
the desperation that prompts hopeless action at 
such a time, the loud report of the weapon rang 
with startling sharpness on the air. Lem saw the 
victim pitch forward upon his face, uttering not a 
sound. He saw the scout advance toward the fallen 
man, leisurely drawing a knife. Divining his pur- 
pose, the youth turned and hurried down the slope, 
not venturing to look backward again until he 
heard heavy rapid strides in his rear, and a gruff 
command to halt. 

Give an account of yourself, young chap,” said 
the scout as Lem calmly waited for the other to 
come up with him. 

‘ ‘ 1 1-1-live in a cabin down y-yonder,” was the 
reply. 

Name Fowler ? ” the scout tersely inquired. 

“I s-s-s’pose it is.” 

‘‘You’re the tall young chap I hear’n Clayton tell 
of. He said you was a brave one, and that a little 
trainin’ would make a prime good scout of ye. You 
have a sort of go-ahead look about ye.” 

Lem was surprised that Dan Clayton should have 
given such a good account of him. But he re- 
solved not to be thrown off his guard, for the tall 
scout might be only trying to win his confidence 
to the end of discovering the hiding-place of his 
father. 

“If I hadn’t f-f-folks to defend at h-h-home I 


146 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


might jine the scouts— that is, if they thought I’d 
do,” said Lem. 

‘‘ Quite a family of ye, ain’t there ? ” Carter pur- 
sued, deliberately loading his gun. 

‘‘ Four boys of us and one g-g-girl.” 

All of ’em big as you be ? ” 

“ No,” and Lem smiled as he added, ‘‘I’m the 
biggest tater in the hill.” 

“ That’s right,” and Carter nodded approvingly. 

“ Goin’ home, was ye ? ” he added. 

“ Y-y-yes.” 

“ Where ye been ? ” 

“ fieconnoitering a 1-1-little. I s’pose the r-r-red- 
skins are likely to pay us a visit m-m-m-most any 
time, ain’t they ? ” 

“Hardly afore another night. There’s a lot of 
’em goin’ to pass this way, and then lookout ! 
You’re a good ways from any fort here, or I’d advise 
you to make for one. There’s straggling Injuns 
and Frenchmen all ’round us, and ye’d be likely, 
some of ye, to lose your scalps if ye started out 
now. Mebby you’re better off where ye be, if 
you’ve got the grit to face it out ” 

“I’ve grit enough to do what I have to,” said 
Lem. 

“ That’s the talk,” and Carter gav^ yet more 
approving nod. 

“ Well, be keerful, and if I’m wanted to lend a 
hand I’ll do it willingly,” he added, turning away. 

Lem had been intensely apprehensive all the 
while, lest the scout would make some mention of 
his father, and now when he saw the other moving 
away he was greatly relieved. But the very next 
moment the youth’s heart sank again as Carter 
turned toward him again, exclaiming : 

“I say— I was going to ax ye something.” 

Lem waited in breathless suspense, relieved only 
in the thought that it was too dark for the scout to 
see how pale he was. 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 14 ? 

I don’t s’pose you have the least idee where your 
father is gone to ? ” 

‘‘He n-n-n-never t-t-takes me into his c-c-confi- 
dence when he goes or comes,” stammered Lem, 
with hardly a hope that the watchful scout would 
accept this evasion. 

“ So Clayton was sayin’,” the other returned, with 
no sign of suspicion. “He said we wasn’t to hold 
the family answerable for what the old man is 
guilty of,” Carter added. 

“ C-C-Clayton told you that?” Lem asked, more 
surprised than ever. 

“Yes. He went to see ye, you remember, and 
had some talk with ye, and he said you was a 
square, nice young chap, and that I wasn’t to mo- 
lest ye on any ’count. And Dan is sharp enough to 
know what is what.” 

The scout was gone again, and Lem was left to 
wonder at Dan Clayton’s friendly interest, for what 
he had told his comrade could have been actuated 
only by the friendliest motives. 

“ I should almost think he meant to let father es- 
cape, if I didn’t know that wasn’t likely, Lem re- 
flected, while he made his way slowly back toward 
the cabin in the clearing. 

An hour later he was knocking for admittance on 
the gate of the stockade. He wondered that it had 
not been opened for him without a request, for he 
supposed himself to have been seen the moment he 
left the shadow of the forest. 

A sudden fear that something was wrong within 
assailed him, when even his knock was not prompt- 
ly answered, and he repeated the summons, this 
time using the stock of his gun with a force that 
could not well fail of a hearing. 

There was an instant stir within, followed by a 
gruff demand of what was wanted. The voice of 
the speaker was unlike any Lem had ever heard be- 
fore, and his alarm was proportionately increased. 


148 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


He did not know whether to try further to gain ad- 
mittance or not before learning who held possession 
of the cabin and defence. 

Had it been attacked by French and Indians and 
the inmates overcome ? Was it a stranger belong- 
ing to the force of the enemy on guard at the loop- 
hole he had made ? 

Such conjectures as these flashed through Lem 
Fowler’s brain as he drew back from the gate. At 
the same moment the latter was flung quickly open 
and Rube stood before him, squinting and blinking 
his eyes. 

Lem gave the boy a rousing shake, not wholly in 
sport. 

A p-p-pretty feller to leave on guard,” he ex- 
claimed. You was s-s-sound asleep ! ” 

“ I don’t see how I could have been asleep, stand- 
ing up,” protested Rube, rubbing his eyes in a 
rather crestfallen way. 

“You didn’t see me coming, and I had to 
kn-n-nock twice afore I made you hear,” Lem re- 
turned. 

“It ain’t morning yet — is it?” Rube anxiously 
inquired. 

“It would have been afore you’d woke up if I 
hadn’t made all the noise I could. Where’s S-S-Si ?” 

“In the house, abed.” 

‘ ‘ And they left you to g-g-guard the defence ? ” 

“ Winawis said there wa’n’t much danger of In- 
juns coming nigh to-night, and they thought they’d 
better get some sleep while they had the chance.” 

“And you was s-s-sure you could keep your eyes 
as w-w-wide open as an owl’s ? ” 

‘ ‘ I don’t think I was asleep, Lem — really. And, 
say,” as Lem was about to enter the cabin, “I wish 
you wouldn’t tell ’em ! I’d never hear the last on ’t 
from Si. He didn’t think I’d have the courage to 
stand guard alone, and now that I’ve proved that I 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


149 


did, I hate to have him get hold of something else 
to pester me about.” 

“You ought to be pestered,” said Lem. 

^ “ Please don’t, Lem — I wouldn’t if ’twas you that 
did it. It’s not fair to have so much to say ’bout jest 
an accident ! ” 

But Lem was in no mood to show mercy in the 
direction in which it was besought. Almost as soon 
as the inmates of the dwelling were awakened, and 
the first glad greetings were exchanged, they were 
all put in possession of Rube’s “accident.” Rube 
himself kept out of the way as long as he could, and 
greatly to his relief, when Lem and Si returned to 
the lookout where he was standing. Si made only 
one drawling comment on the boy’s carelessness. 

“I say. Rube,” he began in that tone which the 
younger brother always dreaded to hear. 

“Well, what now ?” was the impatient demand. 

“Next time you take sentinel duty, you’d better 
have a loop hole fixed, so’s you can keep a lookout 
laying down. It’s careless for ye to go to sleep 
standin’ up — ain’t it, Lem ? ” 

To this Rube made no response, and for a time 
there was enough to talk about, so that he escaped 
further taunts. But of course he would not soon 
hear the last of it. 

At the first sign of dawn Winawis arrived at the 
defence. Even his usually imperturbable face bore 
signs of weariness and anxiety. 

“Danger come on all sides at the same time,” 
he said, with more excitement than he often be- 
trayed. 

“ Injuns again ? ” Lem suggested. 

“ Yes. And the Nipmuck fears for the safety of 
the father of his white brother.” 

“ Be the s-s-scouts watchin’ nigh ” ? 

“Not the scouts alone, but the bad pale face with 
teeth like a wolf. It is he the scouts are watching, 
^Xid he keeps near the hiding place. Winawis is 


160 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


afraid the man with teeth like a wolf suspects where 
the cave is. If he does ” 

The young Indian hesitated, and his hesitation 
was reflected by the anxious face of Lem. 

“You think heTl make for the s-s-same place to 
hide in ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“And then f-f-father would have enemies out- 
side and another w-w-with him.” 

“ Yes. And if the man with the wolf teeth found 
that the scouts were sure to find him, he would be- 
tray your father.” 

“ So he w-w-would.” The culminating dangers 
impressed Si no less than they did the elder brothers. 
This discussion transpired outside the dwelling, and 
was not overheard by Sue or Mrs. Fowler. At this 
moment the former came out. 

“ The scout said he wouldn’t try very hard to find 
father,” she said, when informed of the increasing 
perils. 

“And he said he couldn’t promise to spare him if 
they met,” added Si. 

“ I don’t believe that man is cruel— I don’t believe 
he could be,” protested Sue, so warmly that Lem 
looked at her with a curious sharpness. 

“I hope he can’t be,” was Lem’s only comment 
however. 

“Well, Nipmuck,” he said, after a short period of 
silence. “ We d-d-depend upon you f-f-f or advice. 
You must t-t-tell us what to do.” 

“ My brother asks for more than he understands,” 
said Winawis, gravely. 

“You don’t know what to s-s-say, then ?” 

“Nipmuck can advise, but it may not be well to 
follow what he says. He will do all he can— he will 
watch, or run, or stand and use his bow or knife in 
defence of his brothers. He can do no more than 
that.” 

That s so ^you w-w-would do as much for us 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


151 


as we would for ourselves. You’re a friend worth 
having, Nipmuck.” 

Sue’s kind voice echoed this praise, and the face 
of the young Indian brightened with pleasure. He 
was repaid for his devotion by their acknowledg- 
ment of it. 

The sun was rising, with a film of red clouds 
hanging over his disc. For days no rain had fallen, 
and the leaves of the corn in the field drooped when 
the heat of the sun fell fuU upon them. The nights 
were damp and cool, as August nights sometimes 
are. But upon this morning Winawis, noticing the 
red clouds at sunrise, pointed at them and said : 

‘‘ There wiU be rain before another sun.” 

And will rain be good or bad for us ? ” asked Sue, 
who, like the others, began to regard the young 
Indian as a sort of oracle to be consulted with con- 
fidence upon every subject. 

‘‘It will make the night dark,” was the reply. 

“And the Injuns will have a better chance to 
attack us,” said Si, who, as has been noted, usually 
apprehended the gloomy side of coming events be- 
fore he did the brighter. 

“Yes. But it will be more easy for you aU to 
escape if you had to flee.” 

‘* Then you think we may be d-d- drove out, after 
all?” 

“There is great danger, and it may, when the 
time comes, look best to leave the cabin if the night 
is very dark. But we must wait and see. The foe 
may not come.” 

“ If the scouts would only come and help us fight 
the Indians we might win,” said Sue. 

“If Ave wasn’t h-h-his’n they’d do that,” said Lem. 

“That would make no difference to Mr. Clayton — 
the one that was here,” protested Sue, again show- 
ing warmth. 

“He would do as much for us as he would if 
father were an honest settler.” 


152 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


“I don’t b’lieve that,” was Si’s blunt retort. 
‘‘Wait and see,” he continued, as Sue was about to 
insist on the young scout’s fidelity. “If that Dan 
Clayton means to do any great things for us, he’ll 
find a chance. But you’ll find he has other fish to 
fry. He was sent here to clean out that band of 
traders, and he’ll do that, no matter what else 
happens.” 

Si’s blunt speech uttered the secret opinion of all 
the others, even to Mr. Fowler and Eube. It was 
clear that Sue, calm and cautious though she was, 
v/as only a young woman with a heart ready to love, 
and confidence to be implicitly won, like all the 
bravest and truest of her sex. And the one win- 
ning these treasures would be certain of holding 
them against any assaults, no matter whether he 
were worthy or unworthy. 

Winawis went away before midday, promising to 
return , in any event, at least an hour before sun- 
set. Therefore, when the appointed hour came and 
the Nipmuck did not appear, the inmates of the 
little defence were filled with a new alarm. 

“If there’s t-t-trouble at the cave, I ought to be 
there,” said Lem. 

“ And leave us ? ” faltered his mother. 

“It isn’t far m-m-ma’am, and you have a better 
chance than f-f-f ather does. ” 

“That’s so, Lemuel. Go, if you think best. 
Mebby you had better.” 

No other objection was raised. Winawis should 
have been there more than an hour ago, and there 
had surely something serious happened to detain 
him so long. 

As Si opened the gate and Lem went out, he 
paused, held up his hand, and then said ; 

“ It r-r-rains.” 

What began as a gentle sprinkle soon increased 
to a heavy, yet fitful downpour. The yard enclosed 
by the stockade, having no roof, became far from 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


153 


an agreeable place for sentinel duty, and to keep 
guns and ammunition dry the boys left them in the 
house, but where, at the first alarm, they could 
dart in and get them. 

There were moments when hardly a drop of 
rain fell. Then it would “shell down” again with 
a soft, roaring sound, and rendering it so dark out- 
side that objects half-way between the cabin and 
forest could not be discerned. 

An hour passed, and the inmates of the dwelling 
became accustomed to the darkness and the new 
dangers with which it might encompass them, and 
they began to hope that the apprehended attack 
from the Indians would not take place. 

Sue was first to utter the hope, and in doing so 
seemed to signal the announcement of danger. 
Eube ran in wdth excited countenance. “I guess 
they’re coming — the Injuns!” he cried, seizing a 
loaded gun and darting out again. 

Sue followed. Mrs. Fowler remained to cover the 
light and reload the guns when they should be 
handed in. 

Sue found Si in the act of taking aim through 
one of the loopholes, and as she came up he fired, 
and quickly withdrawing the gun handed it to her 
and took from her the loaded one which she had just 
brought. Eube fire an instant later, and peering 
out Sue beheld numerous shadowy forms rise up, 
as though out of the earth, and dash tow^ard the 
defence. At the same time a hideous yell sounded 
on the air, as though a carnival of demons had 
begun — a yell that was repeated with indescribable 
intonations, and well calculated to paralyze with 
fear all wiio heard. 

“Get the rest of the guns, Eube— quick !” cried 
Si ; “and then go in and help load up. Sue is a 
better shot than you be. When you have ’em all 
loaded you and marm can come and we’ll give ’epi 
a broadside.” 


154 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


The Indians, when first observed, were half-way 
between forest and cabin, so they could be distinctly 
seen. Whether the shots fired had done them any 
damage or not it was impossible to tell. But in 
either event, they did not rush directly against the 
defence, making only a feint of doing so, and 
dancing and yelling instead. 

A few of them fired at the stockade, and others, 
apparently, tried to do so and failed, probably be- 
cause the priming of their weapons had become 
wet. 

To keep one of those flint-lock firearms in shoot- 
ing order in a pouring rain was not a simple thing 
to do, and it is not strange that many Indians 
carried a bow and quiver of arrows as well as 
musket. 

The attacking redskins were ignorant of the 
number of foes they were assailing, and no doubt 
expected that several families were congregated 
there to garrison the stockade. It was n6t often 
that they had to attack an isolated cabin surround- 
ed by such a substantial barrier, and that it was 
the work of a single family of boys they had not 
the least idea. 

All this had been talked over by the Fowlers, 
and now that the decisive hour had come they were 
anxious to keep up the delusion, so far as the 
Indians were concerned, as long as possible. 

When Rube returned with the guns the Indians 
had scarcely changed their position. They still 
darted hither and thither, uttering a succession of 
whoops that were echoed back from the forest with 
hideous repetitions. Mrs. Fowler came out with 
him. There were four in all, with two loaded guns 
apiece. There were ten loopholes, six of them 
facing the point of attack. 

same time, 

Tjn change guns and fire again. Rube and 

ill shoot from t’other two loopholes the second 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


155 


time, so it’ll look as if there was a man at each one 
and some to spare. All take good aim, and fire 
when I say the word.” 

They did as he suggested. A moment later the 
signal was given, and four guns were fired simul- 
taneously, and as soon as the loaded weapons could 
be substituted for the unloaded the volley was re- 
peated, this time from two loopholes from which 
shots had not been fired before. 

The range was short, and the savages suffered 
severely by the double volley. To them it appeared 
as though at least a dozen men manned the stock- 
ade, and good marksmen at that. 

With yells they retreated, carrying with them 
those who had fallen. They did not pause until 
they had reached the edge of the forest, and there 
they scattered into small groups, probably to discuss 
a plan of further attack. 

‘‘ We’ve driven ’em back once, anyhow,” said Si, 
as the others-went into the house to reload the 
guns. 

Sue soon returned and joined him, 

“ They won’t give us another such a chance,” she 
declared. 

At that moment the rain poured down again, and 
even the faint view of the enemy outlined against 
the forest was shut out. 

When it cleared again the Indians had disap- 
peared entirely. 

‘‘It can’t be they have beaten a retreat for 
good ? ” questioned Sue. 

“It ain’t likely,” said Si, feeling a sense of 
sagacity at having his judgment appealed to. 

“ There’s more’n fifty of ’em, I should think,” 
he continued. “ They’ll be more careful, now they 
find we mean to make it hot for ’em, but they’ll try 
to come up to us by some of their tricks, it’s 
likely.’' 

“ I presume so. And this is the time when some- 


156 


THE OTHER SCOUT. 


one who has had experience fighting the Injuns 
would be the most help to us. If that scout that 
was here yesterday would only come now ” 

Sue hesitated, blushing in *the dark as she found 
that she could not hide from her brothers how often 
Dan Clayton came into her thoughts. 

He ain’t here, and you needn’t flatter yourself 
that he’ll trouble himself about us,” said Si im- 
patiently. 

Sue was silenced, but not so her thoughts. Had 
he not in the beginning n:^nifested unswerving de- 
termination in his quest of Mr. Fowler, and had he 
not in response to her appeal softened in his speech 
and manner, and even promised to be as lenient as 
he could ! Why should he do so unless her appeal 
had impressed him ? And she remembered, too, 
with that pleasantly foolish thrill which the expe- 
rience gives to every pure young heart, that Dan 
Clayton had taken her hand at the door, before rid- 
ing away, and that there was a chivalrous admira- 
tion in his demeanor toward her which must at 
least have betokened a friendly regard. 

It would take more than that one scout to scare 
all them Injuns,” Si added, after an interval of si- 
lence. 

Showers and lulls in the storm alternated several 
times, until at length, when it was raining hardest, 
and the vision could not penetrate a dozen yards be- 
yond the wall of the defence, Rube suddenly seized 
Si’s arm., and exclaimed in a shrill whisper close to 
his ear : 

‘‘There’s an Injun got into the yard ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


THE FLIGHT. 

Rube Fowler’s announcement was startling 
enough. Under cover of the darkness an Indian 
had crawled over the pickets of the stockade and 
was in the midst of its defenders. There might be 
more than one within ; there were, of course, others 
in the act of getting in, or about to make the at- 
tempt. The struggle was coming to very close 
quarters, and that they all were imminently threat- 
ened with the horrors of a hand-to-hand combat 
with their foes was a certainty that almost para- 
lyzed Si Fowler’s brain. ^ 

‘‘Where is he?” Si demanded in the same cau- 
tious tone. 

“ I seen him drop from the t^p of the fence out 
near where it lines on to the cowshed,” was the 
reply. 

“Was there more than one ? ” 

^ “I didn't see any other.” 

“We must shoot him afore htr^^t^unces on to us. 
He is up to some mischief, and there’ll be more of 
’em in here if we let him live.” 

The two boys crept toward the other side of the 
fence with their guns held ready for use. But 
when they reached the spotwheie Rube was sure 
he had seen the Indian drop to the ground not a 
living thing was in sight. 

“ I seen him — sure and plain as I see you,” pro- 
tested Rube when Si suggested that he had taken 
another nap standing up and had had a nightmare. 

“ Then his courage failed him and he crawled out 
again,” said Si. 


158 


THE FLIGHT. 


^^That ain’t likely, long as he didn’t see you,” re- 
torted Rube, nettled at Si’s evident doubt of his 
ability to ‘^see straight.” 

‘‘You better tell Sue,” said Si. 

Rube did so. The rain subsided at this juncture, 
and they were greatly relieved to find no signs of 
the Indians having approached the defence in any 
numbers, for there was nothing to shield them 
from observation except the gloom, and that was 
too uncertain in duration to permit them to take 
any very elaborate action. 

That an Indian had gained admittance to the 
stockade, however. Rube was ready to assert with 
any degree of solemnity required. 

“Sure as I live and breathe I seen him as plain as 
I see you now,” he declared for about the twentieth 
time after he and Si had made a thorough examina- 
tion of the premises. 

In the midst of the^ bewildered discussion of the 
events the gloom closed in upon them again and 
down came the rain in the heaviest torrent that 
had descended yet. 

“ If there is an Injun inside, now is the time for 
him to do the mischief he means to try,” declared 

Si. ^ 

Sue remained near the gate to guard that. Rube 
was stationed where Si had been before, and Silas 
went to the place of Rube at the point where th ; 
redskin was believed to be in hiding. That he did 
not feel at all comfortable in doing so must be ad- 
mitted ; but the post of danger must be occupied by 
someone, and he felt that he was more trustworthy 
than Rube, and better able to withstand an attack, if 
one were made, than Sue. 

So he stood his ground resolutely, keeping a rather 
sharper lookout within than without. His vigilance 
was soon rewarded by the sight of a tall figure 
in the act of dropping from the roof of thedwel' 
ing into the yard. 


THE FLIGHT. 159 

Quick as a flash the youth raised his gun and 
pulled the trigger. But no report followed : the 
powder in the pan was damp ; the weapon had 
missed Are. But the one aimed at had dropped 
nimbly to the ground, and would probably have 
avoided the shot had the gun not missed. He was 
up again in an instant, and, as Si ran towards 
Rube, calling for another gun, he was brought to a 
standstill by a voice that was certainly not an 
Indian’s. 

‘‘Not so fast, youngster; ye can do better’ll to 
waste your powder on me ! ” 

A cry of joy came from Sue ; she recognized the 
voice and the flgure, though she had heard and seen 
them but twice before. 

“Dan Clayton, the scout!” she cried — and she 
was right. 

“You would have filled me chock full of bullets 
if I hadn’t got in on the sly,” he said, in explanation 
of his manner of entering the defence. 

“ And after I was in I thought I’d play a little 
joke on you, to show how easy the Indians could 
play the same trick,” he continued. 

“ I seen you when you got in,” said Rube. 

“I reckoned you did, and so it was the more fun 
for me to puzzle ye.” 

The scout spoke in a «ss tone, and even 
laughed quite heartily at his own exploit, and yet a 
close observer would have seen that he was far 
from feeling the levity which he pretended. 

“But we haven’t much time for jokes jest now,” 
he said, more gravely. ‘,‘ I think the time has come 
for you to make a little change in your tactics. ^ I 
came to see if I couldn’t help you out a little. ’’ 

“With you to help us we could keep back a good 
many Injuns, I’m sure,” said Sue.* 

“ Likely enough, miss ; but I ain’t much good at 
inside fighting ; I’m better outdoors, ’mong the trees 
and brooks, and to tell the truth, they ain’t all In- 


THE FLIGHT. 


leo 

juns out yonder ; some of ’em is Frenchmen, and 
one of them is worth a dozen redskins at storming 
a stockade like your’n.” 

Then you think they’ll get in in spite of us all ? ” 

'‘I don’t say as I think they would, but I’m 
afearedon’t. And on the whole, 1 guess Fve a better 
plan for you, and the quicker we’re about it the 
better. If you and your marm didn’t wear petti- 
coats, now — ” 

Si interrupted. That’s what Lem said t’other 
night,” he exclaimed. '‘And,” he continued, “I 
told ’em that they might rig up in some of Lem’s 
and my old clothes if it come to a pinch.” 

“ Just the idea,” declared the scout, and it seemed 
to Sue, somehow, that he was nOw uttering a com- 
mand which she must not disregard. 

“Hustle on some men’s clothes — that’s the way 
to do. Then you can pull through with half the 
risk, and my boss will know what to do with ye ! ” 

“Then your horse is with you?” Si asked in 
surprise, while Sue went in with her mother to 
make the suggested change of clothing. 

“ Out in the corn field lying down,” declared Clay- 
ton. ‘ ‘ He’ll stay there till I tell him to get up. 
That’s the kind of a»hoss he is.” And this was the 
only question he gave them time to ask. 

He kept them all going from one thing to another, 
in obedience to terse commands. He did sentinel 
duty the while, and it was certain that nothing 
escaped his keen, matchless vision. “All ready?” 
he presently asked. 

“ Yes,” Sue answered. She stood in the doorway 
with her mother, and Davey snuggled in her arms, 
and even in the gloom it could be seen that they cut 
a rather ludicrous figure. Mrs. Fowler had a 
matronly amplitude of form that it was not easy to 
disguise, even with cast-off clothing of her 
husband’s. Sue was too tall for Si’s clothes and 
too short for Lem’s, but she compromised the matter 


THE FLIGHT. 


161 


by using Lem’s breeches and Si’s jerkin, which 
altogether fitted her better than anything else that 
could have been improvised at such short notice. 

‘‘No time for admiration or compliments,” de- 
clared Clayton, who had a way of not giving them 
a chance to be apprehensive concerning the step 
they were taking. 

“ Now,” he continued, “you boys take a gun apiece, 
and ammunition enough to last a few days, and grit 
enough to last till morning, and away we go. It’s 
coming on to rain like smoke pretty soon, and it is 
dark as a pocket now, so we must make the most 
of it. We want to get to the cornfield afore it 
brightens up again.” 

The gate was opened and the little partly filed 
forth, Clayton leading the way. It began to pour 
at the same moment and they could hardly see their 
hands before them . They hurried on through the 
gloom and soon felt the soft loam of the ploughed 
field under their feet. There were pools of water 
at every step, and the heavy rain would obliterate 
their tracks almost as soon as made. 

“ Halt,” said the scout in a whisper. “Here’s the 
boss.” 

“ That boss would lay and soak in a puddle for a 
week if I didn’t come along to tell him to git up,” 
declared Dan Clayton, still keeping off fear with 
cheerful speech and fearless manner. At the same 
time he pulled gently at the animal’s bridle, said, 
“Easy, Jim, easy now,” and almost without a 
sound the horse got upon his feet. Si noticed that 
something was tied upon the animal’s hoofs to 
nuiffie his footsteps, and at the same time he realized 
that this young scout had spared no precaution 
from the beginning. He far better than the others 
realized the great danger they were in, and he feared 
that if they did realize it they would not be so cool 
and obedient in all things. Everything depended 
on keeping them perfectly cool. 


162 


THE FLIGHT. 


If the Injuns had come along and found this 
boss, they’d a thought he was dead, or goin’ to die, 
and gone on and left him. He wouldn’t get up for 
them if they’d kicked his ribs in. That’s the kind 
of a boss he is.” 

Thus Clayton ran on in his cautious tones, while 
he helped Mrs. Fowler and Sue upon the animal’s 
back. The saddle was large, and, of course, they 
did not scruple to get on astride. Davey was placed 
between them ; the bridle rein was given to Sue, 
who sat in front. But Clayton kept hold of the bit 
and led the horse slowly betwixt the rows of corn 
until they reached the edge of the wood. Rube and 
Si followed behind the scout, and all of them were 
breathless with the suspense of their situation and 
rapidity of movement, for Clayton did not allow 
them to pause for an instant. 

‘‘Now, if we can only get to the brook, and cross 
that, we’re all right,” he declared, in his cheerful 
tone. 

He continued to lead the horse for some distance, 
and the boys wondered how he knew he was keep- 
ing in the right direction. He was soon to tell them, 
however, how they could keep in a comparatively 
straight line, in spite of the darkness and absence 
of landmarks. 

He suddenly brought them to a standstill, and 
held up one hand as a sign for silence. The horse 
seemed to understand the signal as well as the rid- 
ers, and they could not even hear his breathing. 

It was raining softly then, and the drops made a 
soft, pattering sound on the leaves overhead. A 
very little wind was blowing, with a whirring sound 
in the foliage. 

Si, looking in the same direction as the scout, was 
startled to see a shadowy form moving across their 
path with rapid, silent strides. It was the form of 
an Indian, and he felt sure that they were discov- 
ered. To his surprise, however, the foe passed on, 


THE FLIGHT. 


163 


and when he disappeared Clayton whispered : ‘‘You 
just wait here a minute, and I’ll see that he keeps 
on out of our way. I could shoot him easy enough, 
but shooting makes too much noise. Now, on any 
account, don’t ye stir till I get back.” 

He was not gone long, and when he returned he 
only said : “ Forward, and mighty careful.” 

Thus, making frequent halts to listen, and the 
scout several times going on in advance to recon- 
noiter, the fugitives kept on for what seemed to 
them a long distance. In reality they had gone but 
little more than a mile when they found themselves 
on the sloping bank of the small stream to which 
frequent allusion has been made. 

“ It isn’t very deep and the hoss will wade across 
easy as can be, and so can you boys. Ye won’t need 
to turn up the legs of your breeches, because they’re 
about as wet now as you can get ’em.” 

The scout stepped into the water first, for the 
horse to follow, but suddenly stepped back again 
and backed the animal quickly into the midst of a 
dense thicket. 

“Now, for your lives, don’t one of you sneeze,” 
he warned, giving, as usual, a pleasing turn to their 
peril. 

The words had barely passed his lips when they 
heard, in the lull of the storm, the dip of a paddle. 
They huddled closer together, actually holding their 
breaths as a long canoe, paddled by two stalwart 
redskins and filled with white men, came around a 
bend in the river and turned its prow toward the 
bank near the spot where they were standing. 

Clayton had selected an easy place for descending 
the bank to the water’s edge, and the same point 
attracted the enemy as a good landing. 

As the canoe crept toward the shore the rain 
suddenly descended in one of those sudden down- 
pours which had characterized the storm. This 


164 


THE FLIGHT. 


rendered the darkness much more intense, and 
almost shut the canoe from the sight of the anxious 
fugitives. 

They faintly heard a quick order by one of the 
white men, then the grounding of the craft. 

The occupants sprang out, the Indians quickly 
d»ew up the canoe, turned it upside down, and then 
pushed it into the very thicket where the fugitives 
were hiding. 

Had the rain ceased at that moment discovery 
could not have been avoided. But for the example 
of Dan Clayton the others would not have had the 
nerve to remain motionless. Yet the recoiling of a 
single step, with the snapping of a twig, or a quick- 
drawn breath, would have been fatal. The scout 
had correctly estimated the chances of discovery. 
He knew they were invisible to the Indians and if 
nothing happened to excite their suspicions there 
was no reason to expect them to penetrate the 
thicket. In another moment they turned away, 
and, led by the two redskins, the whole party filed 
off along a forest path. 

Not until the sounds of their footsteps had died 
away did Clayton again venture to move forward. 
But this time there was no interruption, and they 
were soon on the opposite side of the stream. 

Withdrawing into another thicket, they waited 
for the scout to make another reconnoissance in ad- 
vance. 

‘‘The coast seems to be clear ahead,’’ he an- 
nounced on returning. 

They ascended a considerable slope, up from the 
brook, and when they had reached the top Clayton 
brought them to a pause and pointed back in the 
direction whence they had come. 

“ See there ! ” he exclaimed. 

There was a red glow on the vapor-laden air, and 
as they gazed they saw a tongue of flame leap up- 


THE FLIGHT. 165 

ward. It was their cabin, the roof of which was 
on fire. 

But as they looked it was shut out by the pouring 
rain, arid when the next lull came the glow had 
subsided. 

‘‘ They can’t burn it all up if they try,” declared 
the scout. The rain will discourage ’em in that 
business, so long as there ain’t any palefaces to drive 
out by the means. But it looks as if we got out 
about the right time. They didn’t know we’d gone, 
and yet they managed to get in somehow. They’d 
manage jest* the same if we’d been there.” 

‘‘You saved our lives,” said Sue, in a low, grate- 
ful voice. And Si and Kube were not disposed now 
to disparage the young scout, who, it seemed to 
them, was the wisest and most invincible man in 
the world. 

“Well, I calculate you can do without me for 
a while,” he added. 

“Are you going to leave us?” Si anxiously 
asked. 

“Yes — but I won’t take the hoss, and I’ll tell ye 
how to keep on in a straight line. Hold up your 
hands, boys.” 

They obeyed. 

“ Feel the wind on ’em ?” Clayton asked. 

“Yes.” 

“ Which way is it ?” 

“ It blows in our faces.” 

“And it ain’t likely to change for a couple of 
hours at least. So you’re to keep it where it is now 
— blowing right in your faces. And you’re to keep 
as still as I’ve shown you how to do, and you’re to 
keep cool in any case. I don’t think there are any 
Injuns so far this side of the brook. They’re all on 
t’other side. You’re to keep straight on till you 
reach another stream — a bigger one than this. And 
thereabouts is a ’campment of Colonial soldiers. If 


166 


THE FLIGHT. 


you miss them, there’s scouts with ’em that won’t 
miss you, you may depend on’t.” 

Clayton shook hands with them all, bade them 
good-by, and then went back over the track they had 
just traversed. And with anxious hearts the 
fugitives went forward as he had so plainly 
directed. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE END. 

Strangely enough, Lem Fowler encountered no 
Indians on his way from the cabin to the hiding 
place of his father. The journey w^as singularly 
devoid of incident, although his apprehensions were 
none the less keen on that account. 

Winawis had not returned as he had promised, 
and he would not fail from a slight cause. There- 
fore, Lem hurried through the forest, up the slope, 
with its rocks and briery thickets, and scarcely 
paused to take breath until the top of the precipitous 
descent was reached, 

It was very dark, and had there been sufficient 
light nothing could have been ascertained on ex- 
amination of the ground. The swift rainfall had 
obliterated every trail. 

Before beginning a descent to the entrance of the 
cave Lem leaned over the declivity and strove with 
eye and ear to discover if all were as he had left it 
below. But he could see nothing, only the misty 
darkness, and hear nothing save the murmur of the 
stream and occasional dripping of water from over- 
hanging branches. 

When he regained his feet he w^as at first shocked, 
and then pleased, to see the figure of Winawis 
creeping toward him on hands and knees. 

‘‘Back, my brother— out of sight the Indian 
exclaimed in a shrill whisper. 

Lem obeyed, and both had barely crept under the 
dripping, clinging blackberry vines when a tall 
white man came leisurely into view, pausing on the 


168 


THE END. 


crest of the hill. He seemed to listen, and then 
abruptly disappeared over the precipitous bank. 

‘‘Come,” said Winawis hurriedly, “ we must fol- 
low.” And he lead the way, nimbly clambering 
down the steep descent, with Lem close above him. 
They had not gone half way to the cave before a 
gruff voice above them called ; 

“ Halt, there — all on ye ! ” 

It was the voice of Carter, the scout, and Wina- 
wis set the example of obedience. Glancing down- 
ward, Lem saw that the good white man had 
reached the shelf of rock upon which the cave 
opened. The scout’s command had been for him 
more than for the white and red youths. 

Whether the treacherous fugitive had originally 
intended to descend to the base of the precipice 
could not be known, but it was clear that he would 
not be allowed to do so now. The scout covered 
him with his rifle. And then what Lem most 
dreaded occurred, and, as it afterward appeared, it 
was what Winawis had foreseen, and was the crisis 
which he had stayed there until that hour to avert. 

The good white man had spied upon them and 
become possessed of the young Indian’s .secret. He 
knew where his late comrade, Fowler, was hiding, 
and now that there was no chance of his escaping 
from the relentless pursuer, he maliciously pushed 
back the shielding boulder and sprang into the open- 
ing, instead of passing by or remaining where he 
was, and permitting the other fugitive to remain in 
security. 

Only Winawis’ hand kept Lem from springing 
down in pursuit of the treacherous trader. 

“You stay where ye be till I come down,” said 
the scout, and in another moment he joined them. 

“The Fowler boy ; friendly Injun,” he remarked, 
glancing from one to the other. And then he added 
grimly : 

“I’ve got that man in a hole now, and I calculate 


THE END. 


169 


there ain’t any need of hurrying. I didn’t notice 
there was a hole there when I climbed up afore 
dark. What’re you doing here ? ” 

“ I was g-g-going to cross the brook,” said Lem. 

“Ye was, eh ! But you was going to something 
else first, I reckon. Never mind, though, we’ll jist 
go down and cage that white varmint, and I’ll show 
ye how to earn a bounty, and not touch an Injun 
topknot, either.” 

Lem looked at Winawis, and the latter made a 
quick sign that the white youth understood. It 
meant, “We can throw him down the rocks and 
save your father ! ” 

Lem closed his eyes for a single brief instant, to 
shut out the dreadful vision which the Indian’s sign 
pictured. There was a fascinating temptation in it 
that he felt almost justified in yielding to. At the 
same time he thought that this scout was doing only 
what he had a right to do, and that in reality he 
was a friend and not a foe. It was not his fault 
that it was the father of Lemuel "Fowler who had 
transgressed a strict law of the colony, and incurred 
the penalty which no doubt was deserved. 

“No, no ! ” exclaimed Lem, in a husky but em- 
phatic tone. Whether the scout noticed his utter- 
ance or understood what he meant, it was not clear, 
but he certainly took no notice of the words. 

“ Come along,” he said, leading the way. 

“Stay, stay! ’’and Lem seized the man’s arm 
holding him back with frantic force. 

“ Well, what ?” demanded the scout. 

“ There’s more than one in that c-c-cave ! ” 

‘ ^ And who’s t’other ? ” 

“ My f-f-father 1 ” 

‘ ‘ Sho 1 ” The scout was silent a moment and then 
said : 

“ Wall, it ain’t my fault if I’ve bagged two w^hen 
I expected to git only one. But I w^on’t touch his 
scalp. I’d hate to do that afore ye. And mind, 


THE END. 


no 

youngster, don’t ye dare to interfere. If your dad 
makes a fight, you jest stand and let the best man 
win. That is all.” 

Down they went to the shell of rock, Lemnioving 
as one seems to do in a nightmare, his brain be- 
numbed with dread. Winawis reached the cave 
first, and found that the good white man had not 
even closed the opening. As the Indian paused 
before the entrance, he heard a rush of feet within 
and the sound of panting voices. At the same 
instant Mr. Fowler stepped out through the open- 
ing, and the Nipmuck saw he was being pushed by 
powerful arms in his rear. 

Winawis only, in that terrible moment, fully 
comprehended the situation. The scout was indif- 
ferent as to the result of, and conflict between the 
two fugitives, even if he understood that one 
was going on, and Lem was too benumbed to see 
what was transpiring, or to interfere if he had 
seen. 

The young Indian did not pause to count the risk. 
An agile leap, and he had seized the arms of the 
good white man, barely in time to prevent him 
from thrusting the half-fainting Fowler off the 
rocky shelf and down the fatal descent. The 
treacherous grasp was loosed, and the good white 
man, showing his teeth in that most vicious of 
smiles, recoiled from the opening, and before the 
Indian could spring aside, thrust a pistol close to his 
face and fired. 

The Nipmuck’s upraised hand thrust aside the 
pistol, but too late to escape the discharge. The 
hot blaze flashed across his eyes, and he fell back 
with a moan of pain. 

'1 he pistol vras not the only weapon discharged at 
that moment, for the scout, seeing the Indian’s 
danger, leveled and fired his own unerring weapon. 
The double report was followed by a strange still- 
ness, that was broken only by a sudden downpour 


THE END. 171 

of rain that fell soft and cool upon the scorched 
and blackened face of the young Indian. 

Mr. Fowler had sunk down half -unconscious from 
fear and the reaction of his struggle with his 
former comrade. The scout glanced at him con- 
temptuously, and then bent over the Nipmuck. 
Not until then did Lem stir from his position. 

‘‘A brave young redskin,’’ commented the scout. 

‘‘Is he d-d dead ? ” Lem asked. 

“No, and I calculate he’ll live, too.” 

‘ ‘ What— what did he d-d-do ? ” 

“Saved your dad from being throwed down the 
precipice by that vicious cuss inside.” 

Carter glanced at Mr. Fowler again and added : 

“I reckon he’s hardly worth shooting, and much 
less scalping. He’s the last one of the bad lot, and 
we’ll let him live if he wants ter. I shouldn’t want 
ter if I was him.” 

Lem bent over his red friend, and when he saw 
how blackened was the swarthy face, a flood of 
tears fllled his eyes, and his voice was choked as he 
said : “He saved his life.” 

“ And I calculate the Injun can’t tell night from 
day after this. A pity to lose such eyes as his’n.” 
And even Carters gruff tones were softened. 

Carter, the scout, helped Lem to bear the young 
Indian down to the water’s edge and across the 
stream. Mr. Fowler, upon realizing that his life 
was in no further hazard, summoned strength to 
accompany them, and when at last they halted in a 
natural opening, it was he who manifesteil the most 
skill in bathing and bandaging the Nipniuck’s in- 
juries. 

No hand could have been gentler than his, and 
although he spoke hardly a word, the scout, 
by furtive glances at the miserable man’s face, read 
a deeper suffering there than words could express. 

“Mebbe he ought to live, after all,” said Carter 
in a low tone to Lem. 


172 


THE END. 


For some time the latter hardly thought of the 
cabin and its inmates, so absorbing were present 
events, but at length he announced his purpose of 
returning. 

''Yes, we must go and take care of mother and 
the children,” Mr. Fowler quickly said. 

" The woods are full of Injuns on that side of the 
brook,” declared Carter. 

" All the more reason for us to g-g-go back,” re- 
turned Lem. 

"Then ITl take ye the safest way. We’d get 
into a hornet’s nest if we crossed at this p’int.” 

They made their way slowly up the stream, near 
the bank, and considerable time elapsed before they 
reached a place where Carter would let them cross. 
Then the question arose as to what should be done 
with Winawis. 

While discussing the matter they heard a peculiar 
signal from a spot close at hand. Carter answered 
it ; a moment after they were joined by Dan Clay- 
ton. 

" Just what I came back for,” he declared. Ye 
needn’t trouble to go back to the cabin. The folks 
are this side of the brook, and they’ll sooii be a 
mighty sight safer than we be here.” 

There were mutual explanations, and then, in 
spite of darkness and rain, they pushed on toward 
the place where, as Clayton had that day discovered, 
a company of Colonial troops on their way to re- 
inforce the Stockbridge garrison were encamped. 

The encampment was reached before daylight, an^ 
the greatest danger of the hour was over. They 
were all taken to Stockbridge together, where they 
remained until affairs on the Massachusetts border 
became more settled. 

Because our story ends it does not signify that we 
have told all there is to tell, even of the frontier perils 
of this one family of pioneers. These boys of the 
backwoods were of too hardy a sort to settle down 


THE END. 


173 


in absolute security. Such as they it was who 
pushed the borders of civilization westward ; and 
the story of such lives is too long for so short a tale 
as this. 

But what was enacted toward reconciling to his 
family a wayward man has been told. And all that 
concerns the present interest can be briefly related 
from this point. 

That a love affair sprang out of the acquaintance 
of Sue Fowler and Dan Clayton was a natural se- 
quence. And then as now such affairs usually cul- 
minated with a wedding, but the weddings then 
were rather more rollicking in their festivities than 
is commonly the case in these days. 

There were many guests and the bride got kisses 
that were welcome, and kisses that she would have 
got along without. There was a rousing dancing 
party, that did not break up until fiddlers and fiddles 
were too tired to furnish music. The parson did not 
join in their part of the entertainment, but when it 
came to passing round the rum and sugar, there was 
no impropriety in his partaking of a modest share. 
We should not think much of a parson who would 
do this at the present day. 

When the bands of valley scouts broke up, as 
they did in a short time, Dan and Sue, joined by 
the Fowlers, set up homes in the Mohawk Valley. 

T^ere, with hardship and peril, prosperity and 
happiness came to them also, and it is such careers 
as theirs that go to make up the early history of our 
country. 

On a gentle slope, overlooking the lovely valley of 
the Mohawk, sprung up a settlement of which Clay- 
ton’s and the Fowler dwellings were the beginning. 
It was a fertile spot and the ringing sound of axes 
felling trees, and the report of guns killing game, 
perhaps marred the peace of nature, while it told of 
the industry and courage of men. 

Lem, Si and Rube grew up together, and braved 


174 


THE END. 


together the toil and perils of the backwoods. Mr. 
Fowler, a trifle broken in spirit, was what he had 
never been before — a devoted father and husband — 
and out of their greatest trial sprang their most 
lasting joy. 

As an inmate of their home, and constant com- 
panion of either Lem or Davey, was another whom 
we would not wish the reader to forget — one who, 
appreciating the green leaves of spring and the 
many-hued changes of autumn, and loving the glim- 
mering streams and golden sunsets, yet saw them 
not. Brave, blind Winawis, the Nipmuck. 


THE END. 




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